


Dinner and Dancing

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Series: Dinner and... [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, SHIELD scientists, Sick baby, Steve Steps Up, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:55:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Reader tracks down Steve in an attempt to track down Bucky. Bucky's unreachable, but Steve's more than happy to take his place.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"Ma'am, if you don't mind... Tony didn't set up a meeting just because you wanted to run down Bucky. What did you tell him?""I told him my son was sick... and I wanted his father to meet him before I had the doctors put him on Chemo." Steve's eyes grew big with the implication that his best friend was a father and his son was sick. You pulled out your phone and handed it over like you did with Stark. "His name's George, like Bucky's father. I thought he'd like that. Middle name's Steven, thought he'd like that, too."Steve gasped. "He's got Buck's eyes. He's adorable.""Yeah. He's gonna be a little heartbreaker... if he ever makes it out of the hospital." You said, sadly. "Thanks for letting me know that... Bucky's not... thanks, anyway. I've got to get back to him." You said, putting your hand out for your phone."Why don't I come with you? If Bucky comes out of cryo and finds out that I missed an opportunity to go see his only son he'd kick my ass."





	1. Searching

You knocked on the door to Tony's office at the Avengers' Compound and waited. The door was open. You could see him sitting at the desk. He looked annoyed, ran his hand down his face, then turned to the door. "Yeah? Come in." He called.

You pushed in, smiling tightly. "Mr. Stark, my name's (y/f/n) (y/l/n)."

"Okay, who let you in here? This is kinda an Avengers' space."

"The red guy in the professor sweater let me in. I told him I needed to... Look, you don't know me and you don't have any obligation to me, but I need to talk to Steve Rogers and I know you had some fallout over the Accords a couple months ago and he's gone dark but you're pretty much my last option to get ahold of him. Do you know where he is?" You rambled.

"No clue. What do you need with him?" Stark asked. 

You closed your eyes and shook your head. "I was... I'm trying to get a message to someone that Steve knows. Steve's probably the only one who knows where he is and..." You took a deep breath and looked at the billionaire. "It's not that important."

"Not to encourage you to stick around bugging me, but... it was important enough to come to upstate New York to talk to me." He said, leaning back in his chair. 

You sighed and pulled out your phone, hitting the button to show the lock screen. You presented the screen to Stark. "His name is Georgie. I tried to call his father when I found out I was pregnant but he cut off all lines of communication before I even got on the plane home from Romania. I wrote him a letter, but I don't think he read it. He's five months old and he's sick. Stage 3 Neuroblastoma in his neck and abdomen, spreading outward. The doctors wanna put him on Chemo, but... he's so young and the chemo might be worse than the cancer and I don't..." You blinked the tears away and shook your head at yourself. 

"This is Barnes' kid?" Tony asked, staring at the phone screen.

You nodded, reaching for the phone. "Bucky deserves to meet him. Like this, smiling and mostly happy, not... confused and full of chemicals and feeling like he's dying." You sighed, shakily. "Steve knows where he is. Steve _has_  to know where he is."

Tony placed the phone in your hand and pulled back his hand to tap his fingertips against the desk. "I don't know where Rogers is... but, I can contact him." He reached over to a drawer in the desk and pulled out a flip phone. He pressed several buttons on the phone, then put it to his ear. "I need you to meet with me on neutral ground. Because I have a young woman who needs to speak with you. It's a humanitarian mission and you need to hear her out." You watched as Tony rolled his eyes. "It's not a trap, Captain. It's a young woman who needs your help. If I could help her, I wouldn't be on the horn with you. Just name a place and bring whoever you feel will keep you safest. Thank you. Was that so hard, ya dinosaur? 8 o'clock."

He flipped the phone closed and swivelled around in his office chair. "Let's go. We gotta be in Weehawken by night fall."

"Brooklyn would kick his ass for forsaking home turf." You muttered, following Tony as he walked purposefully down the hall.

"So, where's the kid, now?"

"Sacred Heart Hospital back home. My brother's with him."

"That's gotta be hard. Knowing his time might be short, leaving him even for a minute must burn."

"It'll be worth it." You said, as the door to a Maserati opened and you climbed into the passenger side. 

As he peeled out of the garage, you looked out the window. Your life had taken a surreal feeling since the doctor explained what the little bulge in George's stomach was. He hadn't used the word 'cancer' straight off, but you knew. Suddenly, those sad commercials for St. Jude didn't seem so overdramatic. 

"Must've been a shock for you to see your baby daddy's face plastered all over the news a few months ago. What'd you do when you found out you took a HYDRA assassin into your bed during your Romanian Holiday?" Stark broke the silence in the car as he sped South.

"You're assuming a lot, Stark." You said, looking over at him. "You think I didn't know who and what he was when I had sex with him... and of course you think that. What woman, in her right mind, would willingly get in bed with a man who could literally kill her with his pinkie finger? What kind of woman would sleep with a guy who was born 70 years before her and has killed more people than years she's been alive?"

You scoffed and shook your head. "The kind of woman who knows that you can't be held accountable for things that weren't in your control. I knew exactly who he was. I knew, at least broadly, what he'd done before I ever even kissed him." 

"And you'd say that to the loved ones of the people he _murdered_? That he can't be held accountable?" Stark asked, his voice cold.

You looked at his face, noticing the angry set in his jaw and you looked down at your lap. "Who?"

"What?"

"Who did you love that the Soldier killed?"

There was silence in the car, filled only by the sound of the engine and the tires on the highway. "My mom." He said, finally. "My Dad, too, but... my Mom never did anything wrong. She was a saint. Patient, loving..."

You waited a minute in silence before you bit your lip. "If you built a machine and programmed it to kill people, would the machine be at fault, or would you?"

"Did that. Ultron was definitely at fault."

"No, I mean a machine that can't think. One that isn't allowed to feel, or make its own decisions. A machine that knows its mission and nothing else. That's what Winter Soldier was. You met him when Zemo sent him rampaging through that Joint Task Force compound in Berlin. That's not Bucky, that was the machine. _'Soldat'._ Bucky wasn't... isn't like that." You turned in your seat to look at Tony better. "The man I knew was different. He saved my life, brought me back from a concussion, and didn't ask for a thing in return. Barely said a word to me... at first. I think he only opened up to me because he knew I'd be heading back home in a couple weeks. He is a man tortured by the things he was _forced_  to do. And just because you and Bucky both blame him... that doesn't mean it's his fault." 

Stark didn't respond, just putting on the radio to an old rock station and driving on. You pulled into the parking lot for the Hackensack Water Company Complex and you immediately noticed Captain America standing next to a large Harley Davidson motorcycle. Leaning against a small grey sedan was a young brunette woman whose name escaped you, you could just remember that she was Sokovian and Enhanced. She stood straight as you and Tony approached. Tony pointed at the red brick tower to the right. "Sam up there?"

Steve shook his head. "Clint wanted the Tower. You know how he is about his vantage points. Sam took a shorter one in the South." 

"That's a lot of firepower for one woman, Rogers." 

"It's not for _her_ , Tony." 

You swallowed and stepped forward before Tony could respond. "Captain Rogers, my name's (y/f/n) (y/l/n). Tony's just here because I begged him to get me a meeting with you." 

"And with that, I wash my hands. Good luck, lady." Tony said, walking back to the Maserati. 

"Stand down. She's safe." Steve said, likely to the two birdmen. "It's (y/n). She's a friendly." He smiled and stepped forward, taking your hand and shaking it. "It's nice to meet you. You can ride with Wanda. We'll get someplace safe, then we can talk, okay?"

You nodded and he opened the passenger door of the sedan for you to get in as Wanda slid into the driver's seat. She smiled as she pulled out of the parking lot. "Not that I'm complaining but... how did you guys know I was a friendly just based on my name?" 

"Oh! Sergeant Barnes talked about you, at length. He's very guarded about everything, but once Clint pulled out pictures of his wife and kids, Bucky wouldn't shut up about you. Said, 'If family were in my cards, it'd be with her'. He praised your face, your eyes, your singing, said you are perfect and the only thing that made him think he might deserve happiness." 

You looked down. You didn't think he'd've told anybody about you. You thought about the craziness of explaining 'James is Bucky is Winter Soldier, but I'm sure he didn't do this thing in Vienna' to Milo, and suddenly, you wanted to call and check in with your brother. You didn't want to be rude to the woman driving, though. "Go ahead and call him. I don't mind." 

"What?"

"You are thinking of calling your brother. Go ahead. I am concentrating on driving, anyway." Wanda said, eyes on the road.

* _That's right. She's the mind-fuckery one.*_ "Thanks." You said, picking up the phone from your lap and dialing Milo's number. "Hallo?"

"Hey. Wie gehts?"

"Mir geht es gut. Wie geht es ihm gesundheitlich?"

"Es ist sehr krank. I think it's because he misses you. Wie lange wirst du weg sein?"

"Nicht lang. Just gotta talk to Captain America, then I'll come home. Kiss him for me, please."

"Of course. Hurry home." 

"Okay. Bye, Milo." 

"Your German is not bad." Wanda said, smiling.

"Thanks. It's my brother's first language. He's teaching me."

" _And_  the baby?" She said, quietly.

"Yeah. We want him to be multilingual." 

"I learned English after my parents died. It was difficult. It's easier with babies." 

"I've heard that." You tried not to think about the fact that Georgie might not learn _any_  languages. 

"We're almost there." Wanda whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Wanda parked the car in the garage, the wall closed up behind the Harley as Steve pulled in. "Sam and Clint said they're grabbing food. They'll be back in about half an hour." Steve said to Wanda before turning to you. "Welcome to the Secret Avengers compound." He said, rolling up a garage door to allow access to the main building. There were SHIELD symbols on the wall. 

"It used to be a SHIELD compound?" You asked, stepping up to the symbol on the wall closest to you.

"Yeah. Turns out Nick Fury agreed with me on the Accords, felt we needed a place to hide. It was a black site, so there's no records of it, anywhere... which is good because everyone who got arrested in Leipzig needed to lay low."

"It'd be too much for me to ask for you to say that Bucky's knocking around this place somewhere, wouldn't it?" You said, turning to him.

He shook his head, sadly. "I'm sorry. Uh, let's go talk in my office." Steve led you to a small office and sat down. "Bucky's not around and he's not going to be. When Zemo triggered the Winter Soldier, it was his... well, pretty much his worst nightmare. It made him realize that he's still got all this stuff in his head that HYDRA put there. He decided it was the safest bet for him to go back into cryogenic freeze again."

You let out an angry exhalation, tears immediately at the edge of your eyes. "You know, I kept hoping... hoping that he'd realize that he deserved th-the picket fence, apple pie life just like everyone else. Hoping he'd come find me, but no. No, that dumb old man decided he needed to be frozen." You shook your head.

"Ma'am, if you don't mind... Tony didn't set up a meeting just because you wanted to run down Bucky. What did you tell him?"

"I told him my son was sick... and I wanted his father to meet him before I had the doctors put him on Chemo." Steve's eyes grew big with the implication that his best friend was a father and his son was sick. You pulled out your phone and handed it over like you did with Stark. "His name's George, like Bucky's father. I thought he'd like that. Middle name's Steven, thought he'd like that, too."

Steve gasped. "He's got Buck's eyes. He's adorable." 

"Yeah. He's gonna be a little heartbreaker... if he ever makes it out of the hospital." You said, sadly. "Thanks for letting me know that... Bucky's not... thanks, anyway. I've got to get back to him." You said, putting your hand out for your phone.

"Why don't I come with you? If Bucky comes out of cryo and finds out that I missed an opportunity to go see his only son he'd kick my ass."

You chuckled. "All right, Army. People hear you talk like that, they'll stop showing your PSAs. Okay... you can come. My brother's a huge fan, so... In the very least, you can take a picture with him."

"We'll take Wanda's car. She won't mind." Steve said, with a smirk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve kept looking over at you as he drove. When you caught him for the sixth time, you laughed, a bit self-consciously. "What?"

"Sorry. I'm not meaning to stare, it's just... when Bucky and I were flying to go fight Zemo, he told me about you. How he stopped those muggers and you showed up to thank him with a home cooked meal. You know he hadn't had a woman cook for him since his Mom. I thought he was making you up... or at least exaggerating. But... you're exactly what he described."

You had to fight rolling your eyes. "You know... I honestly didn't think he actually thought so highly of me... He disappeared on me. I had a week left. I was planning movie nights and I was gonna do this big... I was gonna throw my own going away party at his place." You cleared your throat to get the tears out of your voice. "Went to sleep with him next to me, woke up to a note. Note said he loved me, but... if he loved me, wouldn't he have wanted to spend every last minute with me?"

Steve gave a sad smile to the windshield. "Bucky's complicated. I know that sounds like a piss-poor excuse, but... he wasn't expecting to fall for anybody. The jerk couldn't even deal with having a _friend_ while he figured out his mind, imagine how he felt to suddenly be in love. Slipping away in the middle of the night, that was the best way he could deal with it."

"You mean, _not_  deal with it." You said, a little frustrated. "He wanted to distance himself. Sure. I understand that. He thought it was the best way to keep me safe from... him and his... past, his future, but... He didn't give me a chance to say 'Goodbye'. He didn't answer the phone when I tried to call him and tell him I was pregnant. He didn't answer the letter I sent him saying the same. It's just... He didn't have to be... I wasn't so stupid as to think he'd come be Georgie's dad and we'd get married and live happily ever after, but... some acknowledgment would've been nice."

"You know, when we were overseas, we used to talk about, you know, 'when the war is over...' and Buck used to say he didn't wanna settle down. 'Bachelor for life', that was his plan. I wanted the wife, the kids, the... fondue." He chuckled at himself. "I don't know how he managed to get the perfect woman and the adorable son and I'm still alone."

"You're not the only one." You said, in sad understanding.

"What do you mean?"

"'Alone'. You're not the only one. I mean, I've got my brother and thank God for that, and you've got your Secret Avengers, but... it's not... sometimes it's like it's not enough." You said, leaning your head on your hand resting on the door. You let your eyes scan the Captain's body. It was similar to Bucky's, tall and muscular with an absurd grace in something even so simple as driving a car (or writing in a journal, as was Bucky's case) but it was a contrast of colors. Bucky's hair was long and dark, Steve's was short and light. Bucky'd had a perpetual stubble, and Steve didn't even have a 5 o'clock shadow on his marble cheeks. 

"Yeah." He said, sadly. "So... Bucky said your brother was in Sokovia?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. He was there for work and... I went there to meet him, first time meeting him. We were in Novi Grad just 24 hours before Ultron destroyed the city. Bucky insisted I come back early. If it weren't for him and his crazy intuition, Milo and I would have both died, probably." 

"We got most of the civilians out. As many as we could."

"But not all." You shook your head. "I'm not trying to make it seem... I just... You guys did the absolute best you could against Ultron. I know that. It's just terrifying that I was in that city and then there was no more city. You know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I get that. It's kinda like falling asleep in one century and waking up in another. It's disorienting and... frightening." 

"It was the scariest thing to ever happen to me... at the time. Sitting in that... pediatric oncology unit... listening to Dr. Small tell me the... the options, the prognosis, the 5-year survivability rate, that was the scariest..." Your throat clenched involuntarily and you took a deep breath and tried to swallow the feeling away. 

"So... He's... what's wrong... with Georgie?" He stumbled, like he didn't want to hurt your feelings by asking.

"It's called neuroblastoma. It's... tumors on the cells that become nerve fibers. Survivability is pretty high with Chemo, but... Chemo is horrible."

"Well, I... I was a pretty sick kid, so... I mean, I understand."

You laughed. "I don't think Georgie has the same option to get over his sickliness, Army." 

"You never know." He said, with a smirk. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve pulled a baseball cap on and zipped his hoodie as he got out of the car. He vaulted over the hood as he rushed to open your car door, and helped you out of the car. It was a chivalrous thing that reminded you of Bucky insisting upon walking you back to the hostel every night. It was enough to put a smile on your face, even knowing you were walking into a Children's Hospital to see your only son. Steve squeezed your shoulder as you stepped into the elevator to head to the fourth floor. Milo was standing outside the room when the elevator opened. "Guten Abend, Schwester. Who's..." Milo gasped. He grabbed Steve's hand and shook it with abandon. "Ich bin ein Fan! Huge fan, Captain America! Wh-what are you doing-"

"I'm here to meet my new buddy, Georgie." Steve said, pulling his hand out of Milo's as you walked into the hospital room. You smiled and picked up your son, who was sleeping in tall crib. You held him to your chest and hugged him to you. 

"Do you wanna hold him?" You offered to Steve, as you swayed with the baby.

"I, uh, I'm not... I'm always afraid I'm gonna crush..." 

"Nonsense. Come meet Georgie." You said, as the boy started to wake up. You twisted him in your arms and placed him gently in Steve's hands. The soldier started out holding the baby nervously, his hands under the boy's arms, but as George started to coo at him, he relaxed and moved the boy to hold him more comfortably across his arms, cradling the back of George's head in the crook of his elbow. 

You couldn't help the smile as you watched Steve grin down at George as the baby squealed up at him in delight. Sure, he wasn't the World War II veteran you'd gone looking for, but you'd be damned if the blue-eyed boys in front of you didn't look like they belonged in the same picture frame. "Gosh. He's so tiny. Are _all_ babies this tiny?" Steve asked, as George grabbed onto his finger and started to chew on it.

"He's actually big for his age. But still... babies are tiny." You smiled, pulling up the camera on your phone and taking a few candid shots before ordering Steve to 'Smile!' which he easily complied with. You turned the phone around and showed the picture to Steve, whose grin got even brighter. "I remember, my dad had this newspaper clipping he bought online from your war bonds touring days... you were holding this baby and you looked _so_  uncomfortable. This is a much better pic." 

"I agree. Can you send that to me?" Steve asked, as a nurse walked in.

"Yeah. Just give me your number or an email address. Or a P.O. box, if you want a hardcopy." You smiled at the nurse. "Hey, Sam. How's he been eating?"

"Less when you were away. Is this the elusive James?" She asked, nodding toward Steve as she handed you a bottle.

"No. It's his best friend." You answered, putting your finger over the nipple and giving the bottle a few good shakes. 

"Steve. I'd shake your hand, ma'am, but mine are a bit busy." He waved at her with the fingers of his right hand that weren't being used as a teething toy and you could see her swoon a little.

"Well..." She started, a little breathless as she smoothed down the front of her scrub top. "It's nice to meet you, Steve." She turned to you and gave a wide-eyed expression, mouthing the word 'wow'.

You chuckled, crossing the little hospital room and gently pulling the baby from Steve's arms. As you were sitting down in the small wooden rocking chair in the corner, Dr. Small walked in. "Just coming to see my favorite little patient and his wonderful mother. I heard you were back, Miss (y/l/n). How was the trip?"

You smiled up at him as he stepped in front of the chair. "It was... illuminating, even though I didn't find his father." You answered.

"Dr. Small?" Steve greeted, softly, as George started suckling at the bottle. 

"Captain Rogers?" Dr. Small immediately recognized the hero, who nodded and took his hat off. "Huh."

"What?" Steve asked, running his hand through his hair.

"Well, I'm just wondering what's so special about this little guy to warrant so much Avenger interest."

"What do you mean?" You asked, rocking the chair a bit.

"I got a call from somebody at Stark Industries, inquiring about Georgie. When I couldn't give him information about George's condition, he asked about the equipment in the pediatric oncology unit and asked if we had any low-income families who might need help paying for treatments. It was obvious he was asking if your insurance could cover George's chemotherapy treatment."

"Heh, Tony doesn't know anything about subtlety." Steve shook his head.

"What's so special about _him_?" The doctor asked, a little more forcefully. 

"Uh, I don't know why Tony would be interested. I'm just here because the father is a very good friend of mine."

Dr. Small's brow furrowed. "The father... he's not... is he like you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Chemically... Enhanced?"

You leaned forward. "What... why would that... does that matter?"

The doctor looked nervous as he cleared his throat. "Well, if he's... then, we might... we can't know what traits he passed on to little George. We can't know how the Chemo might interact with... whatever his father passed on." 

Fear flooded you. "What... what does that mean?"

"I'm sorry, Miss (y/l/n), but I can't, in good conscience, administer this treatment without knowing the possible interactions."

As Milo began to shout at Dr. Small in German, you began to hyperventilate. _*I should've never gone looking for Bucky. I should've never held off on treating Georgie. Oh, god.*_

Nurse Sam leaned down and took George from your arms. "You need to breathe, y/n. Let me take over feeding this sweetheart." 

You started to shake as Sam stepped away and Steve kneeled down in front of you. "Hey. It's going to be okay. I used to work with SHIELD and they have some of the best scientists and doctors in the world. I'll get him seen by someone who'll help him, okay?" He put one hand on your knee and the other on your bicep. All you could do was nod at him. He squeezed your arm and stood, pulling his phone out. "Hill, it's Steve. What was the name of that biologist you had working with Coulson? The one who was working on mapping the Inhuman genetics?" He put his free hand on your shoulder and ran his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.

You could hear a woman on the other end talking between his words. " _Jemma Simmons. Why?_ Because I need her help, Maria. _You shouldn't even be on the phone with me, Rogers. You're a fugitive. If Ross finds out-_ I know that. _What could be so important that you'd put your freedom in jeapordy?_ Look, the short version is that there is a 5 month old baby with cancer who happens to be Bucky's only son and the doctor won't help him because he's afraid of the interactions between any chemical enhancement Bucky might've passed on and the Chemotherapy drugs. I need a scientist who specializes in atypical biology to see him and fix him. If something bad happens because you refused to help me, I will hold you personally responsible. _Fine. I'll call her and see if she's too busy being Director Mace's science advisor to help you. I'll send her your way if she's available. Best I can do._ " He sighed in relief and smiled down at you. "Thank you. I'll send you the coordinates, you send me my scientist." He tapped on the screen of his phone and kneeled down in front of you again. "Dr. Simmons is the absolute best biologist SHIELD has. She's got more PhDs than I can count. If anyone can help George, it's her."

You took a deep, shaking breath. "Thank you, Steve. I... thank you." You stood from the rocking chair, your legs feeling like rubber and wrapped your arms around Steve as he followed your movement. "Thank you, so much." You mumbled against his chest. 


	2. Move On

The young woman who rushed into the hospital room 8 hours later was very pretty and smiled brightly. "Dr. Simmons." Steve greeted, a smile on his face as she dropped a large briefcase on the ground next to the crib and took Steve's hand. 

"Captain Rogers! It's great to see you again. Of course, your whereabouts are classified. Won't tell a soul. So, who's this?" She asked, her British accent coloring her words as she looked into George's crib. "Maria Hill was a bit cryptic on the phone, of course. Spies. What can you expect?"

"This is George. He's... Bucky Barnes' son." Steve answered.

"He's sick. He's got cancer." Milo continued.

"I assumed, since we're in a pediatric oncology unit." Simmons smiled politely at Milo before turning back to Steve. "Bucky Barnes' son? Well, that explains your interest, but why am I here?"

"The doctor won't treat him." You spoke up. "Because his father's an Enhanced and they don't know if he passed on traits that might react poorly with the Chemo."

"Oh. I've never considered that the offspring of supersoldiers might be Enhanced, too, but it does make a kind of sense. If the serum altered Sergeant Barnes at a molecular level, he might _have_ passed that mutation onto his son. Now, the cancer-" She started, dropping to her knees to open the briefcase.

"Neuroblastoma. Stage 3, in his neck and stomach." You answered.

"All right, and how was it that they arrived at that diagnosis?" She asked, pulling several pieces of equipment out of the briefcase.

"Um... They did an MRI?"

"Okay, then, I'm just going to scan him with _my_ equipment, make sure they didn't... mess up. And we'll go from there." She said, cheerily. She hummed as she ran her scanner up one side of George's body and down the other. She held the scanner up in front of her. "All right. Well, the oncologist was right, he _does_ have Neuroblastoma. Fairly easily dealt with, but..." She cleared her throat. "I am picking up certain... metabolic... abnormalities."

"He's... got..." You blinked at her.

"Oh, I'm not certain, of course. I'll need a sample of his blood and to take more comprehensive scans. Then, I'll figure out the best way to approach the Neuroblastoma." She said, with a smile. 

Steve took your hand and squeezed it, lightly, as Simmons got out a syringe for a blood sample. "If he's Enhanced, that's a good thing. He'll heal faster. Be stronger, faster." He whispered.

"I'm just so confused. I didn't even think he could pass that kind of thing on." You whispered back. 

"Well, there aren't very many super soldiers in existence and this is, to my knowledge, the first child created with one. No one's had cause to theorize on whether the traits would be passed." Simmons seemed excited about the idea of new science. "Well, I have my samples. I have my scans. I'm going to take these back to my mobile lab and I will return when I've come up with a solution. Don't worry, Captain Rogers, I'll fix him." She said, smiling.

"She's very cheery." You said as she walked out of the room. 

"Yeah. It's refreshing, isn't it?" Steve pulled you to your feet and looked down into your eyes. "It's not a bad thing if George is Enhanced. You get that, right?"

"It's... I'm not confident in my ability to mother a normal little boy. I'd be in over my head if he's... born Olympian, fast healing, metabolically-"

"I could help... if you needed it. I mean, I know about..."

"You _are_  helping, Steve. So much. Way more than I expected. More than I could've asked for." 

Steve smiled, sweetly. "Are you hungry? I was thinking of grabbing a couple burgers." 

You couldn't help a smile back at him. "Yeah. That'd be great. I, honestly, don't remember when the last time I ate was." He squeezed your shoulders and headed out.

Milo turned his eyes on you as soon as Steve was gone. "I thought he'd never leave." He scooted his chair over next to you and poked your arm. "You brought Captain America with you and he is... he's, uh....anständig. He's decent, polite, honest... what is he doing here, looking at you like James did?"

"What? He's not... he looks at me like... no, he is just here because of George. And you're right, he's decent and polite and that's why he's acting like he cares about how I'm feeling and reacting to all this." 

Milo's eyebrows tucked together. "I'm a man. I know how men look when they don't give a fuck. Captain America gives a fuck."

You scoffed. "Dude, he spent the whole ride down here talking to me about Bucky. That's why he's here. Not because he gives a fuck about anything except Bucky."

"If you say so."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke in the middle of the night to the sound of George fussing and rolled over sleepily, your legs dropping off of the small sofa you'd made your bed since George was brought into the hospital. You sat up, your eyes barely open. When they finally focused on the crib, you saw Steve standing over it. "Hey, George. You hungry, buddy?" He asked, quietly, picking up George and cradling him in his arm as he grabbed a bottle from the bottle warmer. "All right. Bear with me, son, 'cause this is my first time doin' this in a long time." He sat in the rocking chair and popped the lid off of the bottle. You watched as he rocked back and forth, George suckling very eagerly on the bottle. "This isn't so hard. You're doing all the work. Just do me a favor, don't soil your diaper 'til your mom wakes up. I'm not ready for that one, yet." He whispered, a smirk on his lips. 

You stood, smiling. "Is he wet?" 

"No." Steve smiled up at you. "You can go back to sleep, if you need. I've got this."

"I see that. But... it's a mom thing. Baby noises almost always wake me up." You sat on the vinyl flooring and looked up at him and George. "You... you're a natural. Which is kinda funny, 'cause men in the '40s didn't do much of... _this_." 

"I, uh, I was small and sickly... my mom was a nurse. Before she took the job at the TB hospital, she was a maternity nurse. I spent a good amount of time around those hospitals. When they needed an extra set of hands, I was there."

"There's so much about your life that I don't know. I mean, I _thought_ I knew. Dad was a fan of yours. I grew up in a house with a den that had posters with your face on them. He had these trading cards, went crazy for years looking for the ones he was missing. He was still two cards short when he died. He used to tell the stories, Howling Commandos taking down HYDRA bases." You looked down. "Bucky falling from the train." You looked up. "But, pre-serum... I don't about that Steve."

"Ah... I'm not much different. Just, you know, taller." He said, amusement in his voice.

You smirked and chuckled. "No, I'm not trying to say that you're different, I just... I know your mom's name was Sarah and your dad's name was Joseph, but... I don't know about your life before... before Erskine picked you." 

"My parents were Irish immigrants. Staunch Catholics. Dad died in the Great War before I was even born. Mom took the job at the lunger hospital when I was 15. She stuck it out 'til I was 18 and then... Well, most of the nurses contracted it." 

"You used to be sick. How did _you_  come away without it?"

"I have no clue." He chuckled. "I had heart problems and lung problems, and hypertension, I was always fighting head colds and I think I had Anxiety, which I channeled into getting beat up in back alleys. Maybe God just figured I had enough on my plate and He let me get away with just, you know, Asthma and Anxiety and... anyway." 

"Did you pick fights on purpose?" You asked. 

"I want to say 'no', but... sometimes, yeah." He shrugged, slightly. "I dunno. If I went too long without getting my butt handed to me, I got itchy for attention." He joked.

You leaned forward, going to your knees in front of him. "Is he done?" 

"Uh, let's see." Steve gently moved the bottle away from George's mouth and, when the baby gave it up easily, he turned the bottle right-side up and set it on the floor next to the chair. You stood and grabbed a burp rag from the diaper bag next to the crib. You placed it over your left shoulder and took George from Steve's arms. He watched as you rubbed your hand up and down George's back, bouncing up and down. "I was never any good on that. The burping. Never could get that one down."

"I was horrible at it for a couple months when he was first born. It was like Georgie would rather ruin both of our clothes rather than give up a bit of gas."

"He's a polite kid." Steve joked.

"Hey, Steve." You smiled, bouncing George as Steve stood. He raised an eyebrow to show he was paying attention, so you stepped closer to him. "Thank you for being here. I've only had Milo since... It's just nice to have somebody else, you know?"

Steve ran his hand down your arm. "I'm happy to be here for you... and Georgie."

"You're a good man, Steve Rogers. A criminal, a fugitive... but a good man." You said, chuckling.

Steve scoffed and pulled away. "You should get some more sleep. He's still dry, so I can put him back down once you get that burp out of him." You patted the baby's back a few times, handing him to the soldier as soon as he made the little 'urp' noise. He laid George back in the crib as you lied down on the sofa. You watched Steve for a few moments before closing your eyes and letting sleep take you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Simmons walked into the room as the sun was rising. "Good morning!" She set down a folder on the changing table and turned to you. "It occurred to me once I got back to the jet that I never actually introduced myself. So rude. My parents would die. Jemma Simmons." She took your hand and shook it. "I answer to either of those. Or, you know, 'Doctor', but that's not necessary." 

"Y/n. I'm Georgie's mom. Obviously." 

"Yes. Quite obviously. Anyway, I went through the scans and ran the blood sample. Georgie _is_  Enhanced. Tests on the blood sample puts his metabolic rate at about 75% what Captain Rogers' is, meaning his healing and muscular regen will be about that, as well." You nodded. You'd been expecting that answer. "And with that in mind, I'd like to offer surgery as my recommendation for the Neuroblastoma."

"Surgery?"

"Yes. If Captain Rogers would allow me to call in my partner, Fitz, as an extra pair of hands, we could excise all of the growths and George's advanced healing would have him out of hospital in under a week." 

Steve stretched his arms behind his head. "I'm fine with you bringing in Fitz. I was almost surprised he didn't show up with you, yesterday."

You swallowed. "You... you're confident in... everything you just told me?"

"More than confident." 

You looked to Milo, who shrugged. "He's your son. If you trust Captain America, (and why wouldn't you), and Captain America trusts Dr. Simmons, I don't see a reason to say 'no'."

"I've told you, Milo, call me 'Steve'. And I trust Dr. Simmons. She's the absolute best SHIELD ever produced."

You took a deep breath. "How long will it take for your partner to get here?"

Simmons smiled, brightly. "I sent him a very vague text about 6 hours ago. He will be here in about an hour."

"And realistically, how long will the surgery take?" You asked. 

"Well, I'm not exactly sure. I've never done this exact procedure, but I know that I can do this."

"Have you ever-"

"No. I've never done surgery on an infant, but... I know I can do this. I know that I can save your son."

The determination in her voice made you nod. "Okay. Okay. Save my son, Dr. Simmons." 

"You won't regret this decision. I promise you." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later, you were finally putting George back into his Graco car seat. He was almost completely healed, his incision scar closed up and now just a fading pink line. Dr. Small had continued caring for him after Fitz-Simmons left, but it hadn't been required. Jemma and Leo had done an amazing job. You placed a blanket over him and picked up the carrier. You'd signed all the paperwork and now it was time to go home. Steve pulled the little grey sedan in front of the hospital and got out, opening the back door for you. "We should go to lunch. To celebrate." He offered, as you buckled George into the backseat. 

"Okay. What did you have in mind, Army?"

"Somewhere nice. You've been pretty much living on takeout and hospital food for the last month. We can get dressed up."

You stood up and smiled at him over the door. "You've been wearing the same two shirts for a week and a half, Army. What, exactly, are you gonna dress up into?"

Steve smirked. "Let _me_ worry about that, Doll." He opened the front passenger door and you swallowed as you moved to sit. Steve had never called you anything except your name or ma'am. The way 'Doll' just rolled off of his tongue was exhilarating and it made your heart pound.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. _*He didn't mean it the same way Bucky meant it. Hell, Bucky didn't mean it the way it ended up meaning. Just a bit of 1940s leaking out.*_ You opened your eyes and buckled your seatbelt. "So, you wanna drop me and the kid off and then go find some clothes to dress up into?"

"Right. Sounds good." Steve said, pulling out of the hospital parking lot and onto the road. "Which way?"

"South on Main." You tucked your hair behind your ears and watched him drive. _*Seriously, how could someone look so graceful just sitting in a driver's seat with his hands on the steering wheel?*_

He dropped you and George off and you rushed around the apartment you'd rarely seen over the last 6 weeks. You threw open your closet and stared at the wardrobe. Maternity clothes that were now too big greeted you first. You rifled past them to your pre-Romania clothes. Your jeans were too small, you didn't even have to try them on to tell that, and they weren't exactly dress-up clothes, so you moved on to your dresses. Spaghetti straps didn't seem right for a lunch with Captain Steve Rogers, so you pulled a red skater dress with 3/4 sleeves off of its hanger and hoped it fit. Looking in the mirror, you debated calling Steve and telling him not to take you anywhere nice because you didn't have anything nice to wear. You shook your head and grabbed a pair of control top pantyhose. _*It's just a lunch with a superhero who's becoming a good friend. That's all. No reason to worry about looking great.*_

That's what you told yourself but you sat down at your vanity and started to work on your makeup and hair, anyway. How much is too much for a lunch with an old man... who looks like a gorgeous 30 year old? You settled on dark eyeliner, a glittery brown eyeshadow and bright red lipstick. You put your hair into a messy up-do, then went into the nursery and got George ready. When the doorbell rang after an hour, you had George in his stroller. You opened the door and gasped. Steve Rogers, in a dark grey suit with a dark red tie... he looked like a damn male model. You covered your reaction with a scoff. "Where'd you get _that_ , Army?" 

"There's a Jos. A. Bank at the mall. What d'ya think?" He asked, smoothing down the vest. 

"It looks great, Cap. I feel under-dressed, now." 

"You look amazing." Steve assured you, before he smiled and bent down. "Oh, look at you in your little snapsuit, man. You're gonna be the snazziest kid in the restaurant." 

"So, where we doin' lunch?"

"There is a four-star Italian restaurant about 45 minutes away. Yelp has amazing reviews." He answered, taking the stroller handles and pushing it out the door. 

You shut the door and locked it behind you. "You know, it's just.... so weird to hear you talk about things like Yelp reviews."

"You know, I've been in the modern world for several years now." He said, hitting the down button on the elevator. "I might be a little... out of my element sometimes, but I do know how to use the Internet."

You giggled, giving Steve a side-hug.

At the restaurant, Steve pulled your chair out for you and set George's carrier in the high chair, before sitting down across from you. You smiled. _*Almost feels like a date. But it's not. This is not a date. It's a friendly lunch, with a friendly hunk.*_  

"So..." Steve started, looking over the menu.

"So..." You mimicked, trying to figure out what, if anything, on this fancy menu you could recognize... let alone eat. 

"So, I was thinking..." He started again. You looked up and as soon as you caught his eyes, he moved the menu up to cover his face. "I have to head back to HQ. Wanda's been asking about her car, Clint and Sam are starting to get on each others' nerves and Natasha Romanoff showed up looking for me a few days ago and hasn't left..."

You looked down, settling on a gnocchi with a goose ragou. You were sad Steve was leaving, but you honestly hadn't expected him to stick around anyway. "Oh, so... that's... that makes sense. So, this is a 'goodbye lunch'. It's more than I got from Bucky." You said, with a joking tone.

Steve dropped the menu to the table and shook his head. "That's not... no, I'm saying that I... want you to come with me."

"What?"

"Yeah. You, George, Milo, I want you to come to headquarters, where it's safe. I mean, George is an Enhanced. It'd be easiest to keep an eye on him and his growth... keep you safe."

"Why wouldn't it be safe here?"

"Well... The US government and certain non-governmental agencies, they... would love to get their hands on a blank slate like him. I mean, look what HYDRA did to Bucky to make him a blank slate." Steve sighed. "I'd rather George grow up in good company. Avenger company."

"So, you want me to uproot my whole life, Milo's whole life, and move to an old SHIELD black site to... I mean, what would I do there?"

"The most important job... George's mother."

"For how long? I mean... what about socialization and... and eventually school?"

"We can cross those bridges when we get to them. Nothing wrong with homeschooling. I hear that's even better than public school these days." Steve reached across the table and took your hand. "You can stay. Of course, you can stay, but somewhere in Dr. Small's files, George is listed as Enhanced. Somewhere in SHIELD's files, his blood sample is on file. Someone will find out."

You looked down at his hand, gently squeezing yours, then over at the baby. "I'll have to talk to Milo."

"Of course. I want him to come, too."

The lunch after that was light-hearted, talking about his war bond touring days and your dad's cards and your high school and his doodling hobby. "Oh, my gosh! You draw?! How did I not know this?"

"Well, I started drawing pre-serum, so you _wouldn't_ know."

"Touché, old man." You smiled. "Well, you'll have to show me some of your drawings."

"I've got an almost-full sketch book back at the bunker. So, if you come back with me..." He left the rest of the sentence off and you just nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And what am I supposed to do with myself while locked away in secret bunker?"

"We wouldn't be _locked_ anywhere, Milo. You'd come and go as you please. You'd just have to keep your mouth shut about with who and where you're living."

"And you want to go? You think Georgie is on danger?"

"I think..." You bit your lip and looked at the battery-powered baby swing George fell asleep in. "I think I've read some scary shit about Secretary Ross, his attempts at creating a super soldier. I've read _worse_  shit about how people have been treating the Inhumans. Georgie's different. He's never gonna not be different, and that's my fault. I should've made Bucky wear a glove, but it's done. Georgie's here and he's different and it's our job to keep him safe from the people who'd freak out about that. People fear different. I mean, how many people have freaked out on you when they discovered you're Roma?"

"And hiding away is best answer?"

"For now? Yeah, I think it is."

Milo took a deep breath, then smiled. "Okay. I'll go buy boxes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Steve was at your door with four familiar faces behind him. "Good morning! I brought coffee."

"And the Avengers." You finished for him, quietly.

"Avenger's Moving Service. You got two superhumans, two normal guys who work out too much, a Russian and a big-ass truck." Clint Barton said, grabbing a coffee from the carrier in Steve's hands and pushing into your apartment.

The redhead sashayed into the apartment after him, grabbing a coffee, as well. "You'd really call yourself 'normal', Barton?"

"No. I'd call myself 'fucking extraordinary', but I didn't wanna seem cocky."

"Why lie to the woman? She's gonna figure out your personality once she moves in." Sam said, stepping up to you. "Sam Wilson. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too."

"We didn't mean to overwhelm you. Just, in the interest of time..." Steve started.

"Guten Morgen, y/n. Steve told us good news about George. So happy he's healthy." Wanda said, handing you a coffee and pushing you toward the living room. Steve shut the door behind him and walked into the living room. "So, I convinced your landlord that you deserved your deposit back, despite breaking your lease, and we found 3 nice rooms at the bunker for all of you. Now, for fun part; packing."

"Says you. I think it's more fun to just burn everything when it's time to move on."

"And that's why the Russian isn't in charge of Avengers Moving Service." Clint joked before turning to the empty baby swing. "Hey, this is a really good quality swing. My in-laws bought us one that lasted through all three of my kids. You put that thing in storage, it'll come out working perfect for your next one."

"Well, I'm not really planning to have another."

"You weren't planning _this_  one." Milo walked into the living room with George in his arms.

"Ooh! Dibs!" Clint called out, but Natasha stepped in front of him and took George from Milo's arms.

"Did you just call dibs on my baby?" You asked, amused.

Clint shrugged. "I haven't seen mine in a couple weeks and yours probably still has that new baby smell."

"If you tell Laura I said this, I'll deny it, but hers is cuter than yours." Natasha said, turning George so that Clint could see his face. "Nate had that smooshed nose for far too long."

"Hey, he got pushed out of a hole that's usually only big enough for-" Clint cut himself off and chuckled. "Your face would be smooshed, too."

"George had a smooshed face, too, but it only lasted a few hours." 

"All right. Let's get packing. Clint, you start packing the nursery. Sam and Milo can start on his stuff and I will start moving furniture down to the truck." Steve ordered. 

"We'll start in Y/n's room." Wanda said, pushing your door open and walking into your bedroom.

Natasha followed, George still in her arms. She sat on your bed as Wanda began to use her powers to move clothes from your closet to a large cardboard box. "Why do you think he picked you?" 

"What?" 

"Barnes. Why do you think he picked you?" Natasha looked up from George's face and raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged, pulling drawers out of your dresser. "Because he knew I was leaving in less than a month, he didn't have to worry about it becoming something real and because... when he told me who he was, it didn't change how I looked at him."

"You're very perceptive." You shrugged again, not really knowing what she meant. "Barnes is a tough nut. That you were able to wiggle into that shell..."

"It wasn't really that difficult. Just... got mugged and almost killed, then... kept showing up at his apartment until I grew on him. Like I said, he only opened up because he knew I was leaving." 

"And Steve?"

"What do you mean?" You turned to her.

She looked down at George, smirking at him. "Not as perceptive as I thought." You stared at her for a few minutes, hoping for her to continue, but she ignored you, so you just started throwing your clothes into boxes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3 hours later, you were looking at an empty apartment as Wanda used her powers to Tetris your furniture into a moving truck. "Wow. Avenger's Moving Service is fast and efficient. I would recommend you to my friends... if I had any." You turned to Steve with a smile. "So, I guess this is 'Goodbye' to that life, huh?"

"Wanna do a walk-through, see if we missed anything?"

You shook your head. "I'm sure you didn't. Let's just get out of here before I lose my nerve."

"What, you're nervous?"

"Big move, big crazy.... moving to a bunker in the middle of... nowhere. Who's driving the truck?"

"Clint. Milo said he'd drive George in your car. Sam, Wanda and Natasha are driving together. Where do you wanna ride?"

"Where are you gonna ride?"

Steve chuckled. "That's entirely up to you, y/n. I'm ridin' with you." 

You smiled. "Let's ride in the truck. Clint seems cool." You headed out the door.

"Give it time." Steve said, closing the door and locking it behind him. "Let's drop the key off in the office and head out."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be a frustrating amount of "But she's Bucky's girl" and "He's Bucky's best friend" and everyone else knowing they should get together and them denying it. Just a warning.


	3. Bandwagon

Steve sat in a chair with a book in front of him. His eyes were not on the papers, though. His eyes were across the lounge area where y/n was sitting on a barstool pulled up to the counter, reading a magazine.

"Man, you're starin' at her, again." Sam said, clapping his hand on Steve's well-muscled shoulder.

Steve looked down at the book he was supposed to be reading, but he couldn't focus on the words, looking at y/n out of the corner of his eyes. He couldn't help it that his eyes always seemed to linger on her. Her face was magnetic. Her smile, addictive. He, honestly, couldn't fathom what was going through Bucky's mind when he left her lying alone in his bed, probably naked and-

Steve closed his eyes and shook his head. He didn't need to think of her like that. That's his best friend's best girl.

"This is gonna be like Sharon, isn't it?" Sam brought attention to himself again as he sat in the chair across the coffee table from Steve. "You're not going to make your move until way late in the game when you know you ain't gonna see her again for a long-ass time."

"Sam." Steve quietly chastised as he closed his book.

"What'd Sharon say when you finally kissed her? 'Overdue'? And then you never saw her again."

He sat forward and lowered his voice, eyes flicking to y/n and Wanda. "She's Bucky's girl, Sam."

"Pretty sure she's _not_ , Steve. Barnes left her. She's been raising _his_ kid with her _brother_ because he was too much of a bitch to Dad up." Sam leaned forward, too. "Look, I don't hide how I feel about him. He's an unstable, dangerous dickhead and he ruined my damn car, but that's not why I'm sayin' this. I'm sayin' it because your boy Barnes had a month with her and ran off after three weeks because he didn't want to deal with 'Goodbye', didn't step up when she tried to tell him about that kid, but you did. Man, you treat that boy like he's yours and you want to treat her like she's yours, too. I can see it in your eyes." 

Steve sighed and shook his head. "She's still got a thing for him. When she talks about him..."

"Man, when _you_  talk about him, it sounds like you've got a thing for him." Sam interrupted. "That woman is perfect for you and you know it. Do I gotta get Wanda to dig into your heads, pull out your desires so that you can see-"

"I don't need Wanda to show me what I desire." Steve sat back and let his eyes fall on her again. She was excitedly pointing to something in a magazine. Her smile was radiant. "But, what _I_  want isn't what's important."

"What about what _she_  deserves? An upstanding, righteous, good man who _wants_ to take care of her and her son. A damn American hero. Not in 1945. Now. She deserves a man like you. She deserves you."

"But she loves Bucky."

"I don't think she does. I think she was infatuated, that she had a hero complex for him because he saved her life, but you don't fall in love over three weeks and a couple black and white movies. You fall in love over life. Real love takes time, effort, and _overcoming_ obstacles instead of running away from them. Cap, you are all about time, effort and overcoming obstacles. Your biggest obstacle here..." Sam stood, forcing Steve to look up at him. "...is yourself."

Steve opened his book again and tried to read, but he couldn't. Instead, the argument started up in head again. He'd had this argument with himself a dozen times since she walked up to him and recited her name, just with slightly more emotional attachment to call on as the time went by. 

One side of the argument said everything he'd just heard from Sam: Bucky left, didn't answer her, he was happy that she was going back to America and didn't even stay until the day she got on her plane. Bucky didn't want to settle down in the first place. 

The other side of the argument was... falling apart the longer he spent in her presence: Bucky was his best friend. Bucky always had his back, even when he didn't want him to. Bucky fell off a mountain and was tortured and became the Winter Soldier because of him. It would be a low thing to come in while Bucky's in cryo and take his girl, the one he'd spoken so highly of. Bucky was most important, no matter how he feels about her, no matter how he feels about George. Heck, he could help take care of George without being _with_  y/n, right? And that would be honoring Bucky, to take care of his son, wouldn't it?

Of course, it wasn't just about George and he couldn't lie to himself about that. 

*********

You looked across the room at Steve, reading his book. "Someday, he's going to look up and see you staring at him." Wanda said, slipping onto the stool next to you.

You looked down, embarrassed. "No, I've got a plan for that. I just look away _really_ fast." 

"Why are you embarrassed that you're attracted to Steve?" 

You could feel your face turn red. "I'd thank you to stay out of my head, Wanda." You said, flipping your Game Informer open to a review of the newest Nintendo handheld. 

"I don't need to be in your head, Y/n. I have eyes." She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it for a moment, staring at you. "Is it because of Sergeant Barnes?"

"He's Bucky's best friend."

"So? Barnes isn't here, y/n. He didn't want to be. You were his ideal because you were leaving, because he didn't have to worry about anything _real_ developing. As soon as you considered staying, as soon as you became real, he disappeared. Steve lives in the real world. He  _likes_ the real things. He likes being depended on. He likes problems because he likes overcoming them. The only fight he's ever backed down from was when he almost let Winter Soldier kill him in an attempt to jog Barnes' memories."

"And that says more about why we're not going to be able to make it past the obstacle than _any_ thing, because Bucky _is_ the obstacle and Bucky is of utmost importance for Steve."

"I think, if you worked together, you could get past it." Wanda said, before pointing at the Nintendo Switch ad in the magazine. "I think we need one of these." 

"That'd be awesome. We should set up a gaming room! I've got a bunch of board games in a box somewhere, and in another box, I've got a bunch of old video game consoles! Oh, my gosh! That's a great distraction!"

"PlayStation or XBOX?"

"Both, also Wii. I never bought into the whole console wars. I just waited 'til i could find 'em used or super cheap and bought all of 'em." 

"Now you're going to ignore your feelings via video games." Wanda said, matter-of-factly.

"Yup!" You said, jumping down from the stool and heading to George's closet where your still-packed boxes were stored.

The next morning, you came into the kitchen with George in a baby sling and smiled at everyone. "I set up a game room yesterday. Cards, board games and 12, count 'em 12, different video game consoles. It's the room that was empty next to Georgie's, so... If anyone's interested..."

Clint walked out of the kitchen immediately, bowl in hand, spoon in his mouth. Natasha followed, calmly. You grabbed a pack of Poptarts out of the cabinet and  headed back toward the game room. "Nat, I don't wanna be player two. Nobody wants to be Luigi." Clint's whining could be heard down the hall.

"Shoulda got here first."

"I _did_  get here first! You stole the controller when I turned my back to put down my stupid cereal. Come on! Let me be Mario."

"When I die."

"You're a bitch."

"So are you." Natasha said, as Super Mario World music started to fill the room.

"Well, I didn't mean to start fights." You said, sitting at the card table and pulling open the Poptarts. "This was supposed to be fun."

"Oh, don't worry. You didn't start this fight. This is ongoing." Natasha responded, turning her head to look at you, but continuing to play. She jumped on several Koopa Troopas while her head was turned.

"Yeah. Every time we play anything, she's gotta be first. Shit, she's even Player 1 when we play Pong." Clint complained. 

"You did all of this since last night?" Steve asked, looking around at the games and consoles. "You're amazing."

"I'm aware." You smiled, grabbing a box of playing cards and tossing it to him. "What kinda card games you know, Army?"

He chuckled. "I know poker." He offered, opening the box and sitting down across from you. He shuffled the deck easily.

"I've never played. Wanna teach me?" 

"If we're doin' poker, we need to play with Monopoly money, 'cause we ain't having a replay of Cap's birthday." Sam said, dropping into the chair next to you.

"What happened?"

"Stark threw a July 4th bash and Maria Hill conned me into playing poker."

"She didn't con you, Sam. She offered, you accepted. She beat you, and me and Clint and Tony, fair and square." Steve responded with a smirk.

"Whatever, man. She hustled us." Sam said, as Wanda sat down with a fistful of multicolored dollars. 

"Just because you fell for her saying 'What is a Full House again', doesn't mean she hustled you. You should have known she could play."

"I barely knew the woman! Whatever. Gimme some pink lettuce." Sam demanded. 

Wanda handed out an even amount of Monopoly dollars to everyone, while Steve shuffled the cards. You lost. Badly. Between not knowing what you were doing, listening to Clint and Natasha bicker over the Nintendo, giving attention to the baby in the sling across your chest, and the nervous pit that grew bigger every time you locked eyes with Steve, Wanda and Sam cleaned you out of your play cash in no time. You bowed out of the game with a smile and headed across the hall to your room. About 15 minutes later, Steve was walking down the hall. "They busted you, too, huh?"

"I'm 90% certain Wanda's cheating. She's just _too_  good, ya know." Steve smiled, leaning against your door frame. "Thank you for setting up that room. We haven't had much to do since we've been... criminals, and half of the comedy left when Scott did, so... distractions are welcome."

"That _was_  the point. Crazy underground bunker gets a bit..."

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Yeah. Hey, uh, when you get a minute... I, uh, dug out some of my old sketch books, if you-"

"Definitely." You stood, quickly bending down to pick up Georgie from his bouncer. You followed Steve to his office, where a stack of books sat on his desk. Steve took George from your arms and you picked on up. It was full of sketches of the things and people around him, some very detailed and lifelike, some purposely cartoonish caricatures. "These are _really_  good, Steve. You have such a mastery of shadow." 

Steve blushed, but you barely noticed as you ran your fingers across an almost photographic sketch of Natasha's face. You flipped a few pages until you got to a picture of Tony Stark looking lovingly into Pepper Potts' eyes. "I really like that one. Tony looked so human in that moment. I _had_ to sketch it." He smiled. "This was at the July 4th party. They didn't know I was watching. I took a quick picture with my phone and drew that after I got home. I was gonna give it to them if Tony ever got around to popping the question."

"You'll have to send it to them. It's perfect."

"Well, I don't know about 'perfect'."

"Please, everything about you's perfect." You said, nonchalantly. You continued through the sketches, studying your favorites before moving on to the next. When you got to the bottom of the stack, you looked over at him. He was doing 'tummy time' on the floor with George. "Are you not drawing, anymore? These books, the latest date is two years ago, almost."

"Uh, no, I-I _am_ , it's just..." He got up on his knees and looked over at you. "The sketches in the new book are... not finished." He seemed unsure of that answer.

You chuckled. "Okay, well, when they _get_  finished, you gotta let me see 'em, because you are _so_  good at this."

"Thanks." He said, standing and stepping over George. "Means a lot." You just looked down and smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"She's not going to make a move." Wanda said, her eyes on her cards.

"Neither is he. Thinks it'd be a slap in Barnes' face or somethin' to go out with the chick he walked away from. I dunno." 

"Well, maybe they need a push." Clint suggested as Mario fell to his death and Natasha wrenched the controller from his fingers.

"This isn't a Rom-com, Clint."

"It could be." Clint turned around, looking at the two at the table, each trying to bankrupt the other of their fake money. "All that really requires is two clueless assholes who don't realize they're perfect for each other, an antagonizing force or event and a couple friends to set them on the right course. I'm pretty sure this is a tailor-made Rom-com situation."

"I'm all for manipulation for the sake of romance, but what could we possibly do to make them stop focusing on Barnes?" Natasha asked, eyes not leaving the screen.

"Well, we could tr-"

"Trapping them in a room together isn't going to work. They've roadtripped together. Twice."

"Okay. Fair point. What if we-"

"Telling one or both that the other is sick or injured would be cruel. They just got done dealing with Georgie's cancer."

"We could-"

"Cap can't get drunk."

"You know what, Nat?! You come up with one!" 

"Babysitting." Natasha said, succinctly. "We convince Steve to take her out for some much-needed fun and we offer to babysit."

"Sure. If you wanna go simple with it." Clint grumbled, flopping back down on the couch.

"I'll talk Steve into it, later." Natasha finished.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm just sayin' she looks like she needs a break." Natasha looked up at Steve from her spot in his desk chair, her feet up on his desk.

"No, you're just saying that I need to take her out. I didn't take you for a bandwagon person, Natasha." He responded swatting her feet off of his desk.

She shrugged. "Only if the music makes sense, Steve." 

"How does me courting Bucky's girl while he's incapacitated make sense?"

"He ghosted her. He left her, let her go through her pregnancy alone. He didn't _want_ her or the whole family thing. You think he'd be upset that you took her out for some fun?"

"Okay, you weren't on our side in Germany so you missed the animated way he spoke about her. He talked about her like she could be his salvation, like she was everything he ever... I've never heard him talk about a woman the way he spoke about her. He 'ghosted' her because he was terrified for her, how his life might end hers. How could I even entertain taking the one thing he's wanted?"

"Easy. You take her out and ignore the frozen guy thousands of miles away."

Steve sighed, heavily. "Bucky's gonna wake up one day, Natasha. How would I explain that y/n came around looking for him and I was taken with her, so I took her from him?"

"You don't. You wouldn't have to. If he cared about her, he'd want her dating a quality guy. He'd want George around good people. If he cared, he'd want you guys together."

"I don't know. It just feels wrong."

"No. It doesn't and that's why you feel guilty." Natasha stood. "Ask her to dinner, Rogers. She's got a bunker full of folks who would love to babysit." She smirked as she walked out of the office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You looked up as Steve walked into the game room. "What are you playing?"

"It's called Crash Bandicoot: Warped. It's... I don't even know how to describe this game." 

Steve watched you for a few minutes, before clearing his throat. "So, I was wondering if... if you wanted to come to dinner with me tonight." You turned your head, staring at him in shock. The game over screen was suddenly on the screen because a boulder crashed into you as you stared. "Sorry. Didn't mean to get your... bandicoot killed."

"What did you say?" You whispered, dropping the PlayStation controller on the couch next to you.

"I asked if you wanted to go to dinner with me." He sat next to you, moving the controller out of his way. "There's a restaurant in the Bronx, the original owner was part of the 107. I saved him from HYDRA, so his grandson always has the Chef's Table free for me. We could go in through the back door. He makes the best burgers."

"Uh... are you... are you asking me on a date, Steve?" 

He chuckled, running his hand through his hair. "I am. I think we need some time out of the compound and I'd like to spend it with you. If-if you wanted."

You bit your lip. "Of course. I would love to. But what about-"

"Natasha volunteered to babysit." Steve stood. "So... I'll pick you up at your room at 7?" He asked, with a smirk. You nodded, still a bit dumbfounded that he asked you out. "All right. I'll go make our reservations." 

"And I'll... go take a... shower." You stood, turning off the PlayStation and heading for your room. Milo knocked on your door as you were trying to figure out something to wear. 

"So. He finally asked you out?"

"It's not... I'm sure it's not like that."

"I'm sure you're lying to yourself. Captain America has invited you to dinner. Is not for no reason. Is because he likes you. You like him, too."

You shook your head. "Come on."

"When did you become a pussy?" 

"Excuse me?"

"When I met you, you were going for what you want. You weren't lying to yourself about things right in front of your face. Did motherhood soften you so much or are you still holding out hope for James to come back when he ran away from you?"

You took a deep breath. He was kinda right. You wanted Bucky and you went for him. Why should you feel so bad about wanting Steve, especially when Steve obviously wants you, too. "Bucky's a good man. I might be pissed off at him, but what if that's why I'm so receptive to Steve? Maybe I like Steve because he reminds me of Bucky and-"

"You like Steve because Steve is amazing. You'll see after you go on this date with him." 

"Maybe. I don't even know what to wear."

"Jeans and the purple blouse." 

You sighed, looking at the outfit he picked. "I don't know if that'll work. I don't think it'll fit." 

"It'll fit. You've lost most of the pregnancy weight. Go on. Try it on." Natasha showed up at your door. "I'll do your makeup, Wanda can do your hair."

"No. No, no. This is not gonna be a whole big-" You said, shaking your head at the Russian.

"It's a date. You oughta let us help you." Wanda said, pushing into the room with a hairbrush and a curling iron. "We know it's just dinner, but still. You want to look your best."

You took a deep breath. They weren't going to walk away on this. Stubborn Avenger friends. "Fine." You rolled your eyes and sat in your desk chair as the women started to attack you with hair brushes and makeup brushes.


	4. Timing

Two short knocks hit your door right at 7. You looked back at Wanda, Natasha and Milo before taking a deep breath and opening the door. Steve was wearing dark blue slacks and a white button-down half buttoned over a plain black tee. He looked you up and down, in a completely analytical way, and you looked down nervously. "It's too much, isn't it? The hair and the makeup." You tucked a curl behind your ear and rolled your eyes at yourself.

"No. You look gorgeous." He said, smiling. "That purple blouse looks amazing on you."

You bit your lip and nodded. "Thank you. You look..." You turned and grabbed your purse, kissing George's head and heading out the door. "Are we gonna take Wanda's-"

"Was gonna put you on the back of the bike, but I wouldn't want to mess up your hair." He walked down the hall, his arms folded neatly behind his back. 

You smiled. "You could always just go slow. I kinda want to be on the motorcycle."

"Are you sure? I mean, it looks like you spent some time on your hair, there, so..."

"I'm definitely sure. You got an extra helmet?"

"You can wear mine. Don't usually wear one. Not like I really need it, right?" He handed you the helmet as you approached the motorcycle. "You ever been on the back of one of these?" He asked, swinging his leg over the seat and turning the key in the ignition.

You shook your head as you carefully pulled the helmet over your hair. "Never been on a date with anybody who had a motorcycle." 

"Go ahead and climb on behind me. Hold on tight, okay?" You slid onto the back and wrapped your arms around his chest. "When I lean, you lean."

"Okay." You whispered, holding him tightly. He hit the button to start the engine and you brought your feet up to the back pegs, hooking the heel of your boots there. He pulled out of the bunker and he headed toward the city. You squeezed him, scooting as close to him as possible. 

He pulled to a stop in a back alley, dropping his boots to the ground to hold the bike up as you released him and slid off the back. He pushed the kickstand down and stood as you pulled the helmet off and ran your hands lightly through your hair. Looking in the left-hand mirror, you were happy that your hair hadn't been completely destroyed. "How'd you do that?" Steve asked, staring down at you with wonder in his eyes.

"What?" You asked, a little uncomfortable under that gaze.

"How'd you come out with your hair lookin' that good? I have far less hair and I can't get away from helmet head." 

"Just lucky, I guess." You handed the helmet over to him and smiled. "So, this is the restaurant, huh? Not what I expected."

"It'll look better once we get inside. Promise." Steve put a hand on the small of your back and guided you to the alley door. He knocked on the door and a tall skinny man in a chef's coat opened it.

"Captain Rogers! I am so glad you finally took up my offer, sir!" The chef offered his hand, which Steve shook.

"Well, finally had the right occasion to. Hope your burgers are as good as Anthony Bourdain said they are. I'm tryin' to impress." Steve said the last bit under his breath, like you weren't supposed to hear it, but he looked over at you and winked, making you blush and look down.

"Well, you're looking at a James Beard Award nominee and Moe-ma's has a Michelin star, so... pretty good, if you ask me. Can I take your jackets? The lady's purse?"

You handed over your jacket and purse and Steve handed over his jacket. As you passed through the kitchen, which was full of people who paid absolutely no attention to you, you grabbed onto Steve's arm. "When you said the burgers were good, I expected Guy Fieri, not Wolfgang Puck." You whispered.

"Eh, I didn't want to get your expectations up too high." 

"I feel so under dressed. I... I was expecting..."

"It's a date, Doll. You deserve the best and your comfort is part of that." You bit your lip at the shiver that went down your spine from being called 'Doll'. You sat down at a table in the middle of the room, but it didn't take you long to realize that the reason you got the best table was because there were no other diners in the room. 

"Uh, Steve?"

"You don't have a problem with us having the place to ourselves, do you? I'm not trying to flaunt my clout here, it just makes the most sense. I do have several government agencies looking for me and I figure this way, no one can see me and call somebody." He smirked at you from across the table.

"Steve, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you really _were_ trying to impress me."

"Don't let me give you the wrong idea." He said, before picking up the menu. He didn't continue the sentence, so you just scoffed and picked up your menu. "You want wine?"

"Uh..." You looked over the wine list, but you didn't recognize any of the names. "I don't even know what a 'Chenin Blanc' is. Can we just have a beer? I totally know what an IPA is. Brewdog?"

Steve smiled and gave a small chuckle. "Oh, thank the Lord. I thought I was going to have to pretend I knew about wines. Brewdog IPA sounds perfect." 

The beer was amazing and the burger was perfect. On your third beer, you were feeling a bit tipsy, but it was just enough to loosen you up. "No, seriously, Steve... he did. My first boyfriend was horrible. He thought a crappy Ben Stiller movie and a pack of cigarettes was enough to get him laid. When I told him 'no', he flipped out!"

"Well, he obviously knows nothing on courtship."

"Definitely not like you." You said, with a grin.

"Well, I don't know about that. Bucky was always the one who was better at this whole-"

"Coulda fooled me. Every move that got made, I started. Guess he got awkward after the whole... Winter Soldier thing." 

Steve smiled across the table, taking a drink of his beer as the hostess walked up and whispered in his ear. He nodded at her and she disappeared. Four men filed out from the kitchen door and pulled tables and chairs to the edge of the room. Steve stood and offered you his hand to help you out of your seat, which you took as the four men pulled your table away and the symphonic music pouring through the overhead turned to a brass-heavy  Big Band song. You looked around in wonder. "Dance with me?"

"Steve, you-" You scoffed. "You set this up, too?"

"Just a warning, not very good at this. But, I figured a night out wouldn't be complete without at least one dance."

You smiled up at him as he took each of your hands in his. "I haven't danced since Senior Prom... and it definitely wasn't... swing. I have no clue how to dance to this..." You jerked your head up at the speaker above your heads. 

"Well, East Coast Swing is pretty easy. If I remember correctly, it's two steps left..." He did as he said, pulling you to your right two steps. "...two steps right..." He moved you back to the starting point. "...then rock." He placed his left foot slightly behind him, rocked back and forth on it, then moved it back to the center.

You giggled as you started dancing the very simple swing. Right two, left two, rock. Right two, left two, rock. New song, same dance. Steve spun you at the end of the second song and you devolved into giggles. "Oh, my gosh!" You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest as a slower song started. Steve pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist as yours went to his shoulders. It was intimate and you could tell that he was nervously thinking the same.

As you swayed back and forth with Steve, barely moving your feet for fear of stepping on each other's toes, you felt a bit guilty. You shouldn't like dancing with Bucky's best friend like this. You shouldn't feel safe and happy in his arms. You shouldn't want to know how his lips feel against yours or how your bodies might slot together perfectly in bed. Part of you rebuked yourself for being seduced by a pretty face and big muscles, the chivalry and righteousness, that goddamned smile, but another part argued back fiercely that Bucky Barnes had disappeared. He thought you were a distraction, that you were a danger. Bucky Barnes let his phone go to voicemail every time but never took the time to set up the voicemail box. Bucky Barnes didn't want you, didn't want Georgie. Steve, the voice argued, loves little George. Steve is great with him and Steve, obviously, wants you. It's not immoral, it's not cheating or hurting anybody. It's taking what you want, what you deserve. 

"Y/n." Steve interrupted your inner battle with a whisper of your name. You looked up and smiled, embarrassed. "You okay?"

"Just... in my head, trying not to step on your toes." 

"I'd be more worried about your own toes. You know, I'm not very good at this and if I step on you, you might lose a toe." His smile was sweet.

You looked between your bodies down at your feet. "They look okay to me."

Steve held you tighter when you looked back up at him, his hands moving down to sit on your hips. You moved your hands from his shoulders to hook together behind his neck. "You know..." He started, looking down into your eyes, but thought better of it and looked away toward the kitchen. "You know that I would and _have_  gone through a crucible to ensure Bucky's health and safety. I love him. He's my brother. Closest I've got. I've never considered doing anything that might hurt him. Never..."

"Steve..." You looked away as the song changed to another fast song.

"This isn't his health or safety, y/n. This is his heart, and I should care about that _more_ , but I can't." He looked down and brought his hand up to tilt your chin up to look at him. "Bucky isn't here. Bucky's frozen in Wakanda and we have no clue when he'll be out. You're here now. I'm here now. And I think we deserve..." 

"Steve..." You looked up into his ice-blue eyes and bit your lip. "I think we deserve it, too. But... isn't it weird?"

Steve chuckled, his fingertips tightening on your hip slightly. "I'm from the twentieth century. Everything's weird." He pushed his right hand into your hair and let his fingers grip at the back of your scalp. "But you can't deny your heart."

You took a deep breath and went to the tiptoes of your boots to press your lips against his. The hand on the back of your head pushed gently to deepen the kiss. This kiss was nothing like your first kiss with Bucky. There was no apprehension, no fear of going too far or loss of control. There was just strength and confidence and desire. You pulled him down closer to your level and when you pulled back, you were both breathing heavy. You chuckled, running your hand across his cheek. "I made a super soldier lose his breath."

He smirked. "Not to seem in any way indecent, but why don't we get back to HQ?"

"So, date night's over?" You asked, pulling away. You were disappointed. 

" _First_ date is over." His eyes sparkled as the owner brought out your purse and jackets. "Don't worry, Doll. We _are_  going home together." 

You pulled your jacket up your arms and slung your purse over your head. Steve put his leather on and put his hand on the small of your back as he led you to the back door. Steve bid the owner a good night and you got on the Harley, heading home. Headquarters were quiet when you got back, holding hands as you walked toward the rooms. He stopped at your door, but you shook your head. "Let's check on the kid. I have no doubt that everyone could handle him, but... I also know what kind of shenanigans Barton could've gotten up to with my son, so..." You continued down the hall to George's room but he wasn't in there, so you moved on to the Game Room, where you could hear the music for Super Mario Bros playing. They were all in there, sleeping, George passed out in his battery-operated swing. You smiled up at Steve, who pulled you gently back toward your room. 

You opened your door and leaned against the doorjamb. He looked down at you, then smiled. "Are you going to invite me in?"

"Wasn't sure you'd _want_ to come in. First date, and all." You responded, shyly. Part of you was wondering if anything would even happen if he came into your room.

He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head, slightly. "Gotta say, I have my mother in my head saying, 'Any woman who'd have ya in 'er bed before walkin' down the aisle is not good enough fer my son'." His voice flowed to a seamless Irish accent as he spoke her words. "And, honestly, I'm not even interested in that... _tonight_... but I think it would be keen to just... fall asleep next to you."

You smiled, brightly, your cheeks burning. "I don't know if that's the sweetest thing I've ever heard... or the cheesiest, but either way... why don't you come in, Steve?"

He grabbed your hand and led you to the bed, lightly kicking the door closed. You both sat on the edge of the bed and pulled your boots off, pushing them under the bed as soon as they were off. You lied down on your side and he lied next to you, facing you. You just stared at each other for a few minutes before he leaned forward and covered your lips with his. Your lips fell open as his hand grabbed your hip and he pulled you closer to him. His tongue pushed into your mouth and you pushed against it with your own as your hand grasped at his shoulder. He pulled back and looked down, his face flushed just as you knew yours must be. "Sorry." He breathed. "Good night kiss." You chuckled, before turning over onto your other side. He made a displeased noise before pulling you flush with his body, one arm slipping under your head and the other moving down to rest his hand on your thigh. "Now, how am I supposed to look at your gorgeous face if you're turned the other way, sweetheart?" He complained against the back of your neck.

"Thought you weren't interested in anything tonight? Just tryin' to keep you a man of your word, Army." 

He chuckled, before placing a kiss on the crook of your neck. "Keep me honest, y/n. Sign of a good woman."

"Good night, Steve."

"Good night, y/n."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up and Steve was still behind you, holding you close to his massive frame. You moved slowly, looking around your room. It was morning, according to the clock on your wall, and you knew that Steve was usually awake at the crack of dawn but he was still there in bed with you. "Back to sleep, Doll." He muttered, his eyes not opening.

"Steve, it's 5 am. Aren't you supposed to go punish the treadmill, or something?" He always worked out super early.

His eyes opened and you could tell that he was awake before you, that he'd been laying there pretending so that he wouldn't have to leave you in bed alone. "You think I _need_ to run?"

"You always exercise. Like, every day like it's an imperative." 

He chuckled, reaching forward and pushing your hair out of your face. "I think I can skip a day. Kind of just want to stay where I am for a little while longer."

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, softly. He pressed into you harder and rolled you on top of him, letting you be in charge of the intensity and speed of your interaction. You settled down, straddling his abs because you didn't want to be so intimate as to straddle his slacks. You weren't sure where this was heading. Just a few hours ago he wasn't interested in anything. But that was last night. And you were done being a pussy, as Milo had said. If this was something you guys wanted, why not go for it? "It's a new day." You said, running your hands down his chest. "What are you interested in this morning, Army?"

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but shook his head. "Well, it'd be improper to answer that with honesty." He smiled and you bit your lip. 

You looked behind you and noticed the tent in his pants. "Well, Steve, what would your momma say?"

"I don't want to talk about my mother, right now." He put his hands on your hips and pushed you further down his body to straddle where he wanted you. "I want to talk about getting you out of those pants." 

You laughed, wiggling your ass a little against that tent. "How 'bout we start with the shirt?" You grasped the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head. His mouth hung open a little as you dropped the purple blouse to the floor next to your bed. "Problem, Army?" You teased, as he brought his hand up to caress the skin just under your bra. 

"Damn." He cursed and it was the most reverent sound ever, because you knew it was about you. "And it is the single-most beautiful thing I've ever seen when you blush like this." He cupped your cheek in his hand and you smiled down at him. As you were reaching behind your back to unhook your bra, a wail hit your ears. George's cries were tiny, yet oh so loud and you almost fell off of Steve, who chuckled.

He grabbed your arms, pulling you down for a kiss before standing you both up. "Why don't you take a shower? I'll go take care of George."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure he just needs a change. Besides... I have to go run. It's like an imperative." He grinned as he readjusted his pants and walked out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~

"So, I notice your bed wasn't slept in, yet you're still carrying the same tension you always do. So, kill my speculation. Did you get some?" Natasha leaned against the doorjamb of Steve's office, a small smirk on her lips.

"Don't be vulgar, Natasha." Steve said, looking up from his sketch book. "Nothing happened."

"You got cockblocked by the baby, didn't you?"

Steve couldn't control the way his shoulders slouched in defeat. "He has the worst timing." He conceded.

"Next time, get a hotel." She suggested.

"I don't think that's gonna be necessary, Romanoff. We live together and it isn't like we're in a big hurry." 

"Maybe you should be. Come on, Steve. You both need to get laid."

"Thank you for the assessment. I think I'll take things as they come, if you don't mind." He closed his sketch book and stood as Sam stepped up next to the Russian.

"Coffee?" Steve nodded, stepping around his desk. "So, how'd the date go?"

Steve closed the office door behind him and followed Sam toward the kitchen. "It was great. Everything turned out exactly how I envisioned it."

"So?" Sam asked, pointedly, pouring two mugs of coffee.

"Come on, Sam. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."

"So, there _was_ kissing?"

"Sam." Steve smiled behind his coffee cup.

"Hey, I'm all for it. You deserve the best." Sam said as Wanda walked across the room with y/n following her. "And _that_ is the best. Gonna take her out again?" 

"Of course, I am." Steve smiled as he walked over to the other side of the kitchen. "Good morning."

"How was your run?" Y/n asked, popping a piece of muffin in her mouth.

"Good. It's always good to start the day with exercise." Wanda looked down, obviously holding back a laugh. "What? What's funny, Maximoff?"

"It's nothing. It's just... not the exercise you were hoping for at the start of the day." She answered, a wide smile on her face.

Steve looked down, embarrassed. "Wanda, please, don't-"

"Actually, that's on me, Steve. I... couldn't contain myself. Had to brag a bit, and then lament my son's poor timing." 

"We'll have to work on _our_ timing, then. Keep trying 'til we get it right?" Steve asked. 

"Of course, Army. Law of Averages, it's gotta work out eventually." They smiled at each other like they were the only two people in the room. "Plans tonight?" 

"Ladies Choice, but I think we should stay in. A movie?"

"Sure." 

"Lost in your own world?" Milo was suddenly behind y/n.

"No. Not lost and not _my_ world." She answered, before turning and walking away with her muffin. 

As soon as she was out of the kitchen, Sam and Wanda high-fived each other. "So, which of us gets the Cupid title?" Sam asked.

"I'll take it, thank you." Natasha said, picking up Steve coffee mug and taking a drink.

"Oh, jeez. You guys. Shush." Steve shook his head as he walked out of the office back to his office. 


	5. Roma Roam

The movie was boring. You didn't want to be watching it, anyway. You'd rather you and Steve were dancing, one way or the other, but you were sitting next to him on a sectional couch which also held your brother, Clint and Wanda. He wasn't watching the movie. He couldn't be, because every time you looked over at him, he was looking down at you. In fact, by the time he squeezed your hand and nodded toward the bedrooms, you'd forgotten what you were even watching. He got up and walked away without a word and you shot a look at the others before following.

He pulled you into your bedroom and pushed you into the wall next to the door. As he kissed down your neck, tugging gently but insistently at your clothes, you went to work on his belt. When he bit down, softly, on your shoulder, you let out a shuddering breath and the word, 'fuck' escaped you. "Don't be vulgar, sweetheart." He scolded, pulling your t-shirt over your head and tossing it aside. "I haven't done anything to provoke that kind of talk. Yet." He reached down, grabbing the backs of your thighs and picking you up. He dropped you to the mattress and made quick work of his own shirt and belt. You kicked your shoes off as he toed off his sneakers. You reached behind you to unhook your bra, but his hands grabbed your forearms and you stopped. He moved his hands behind your back and unhooked your bra. "That's _my_ job."

You licked your lips as he pulled the bra down your arms and dropped it to the floor. You scanned your eyes down his chest. "Wow. You-"

"Look amazing." He interrupted, running his hands across your chest. "How'd I get so lucky?"

"You're lucky?"

"The luckiest." He whispered, leaning over your body, his weight pressing your body into the mattress. His lips attached to your earlobe and his hands roamed down your sides, his fingertips mapping your skin. 

"Steve." You whispered, grabbing at his shoulders. 

"Take your pants off." He ordered, sliding off of the bed and grabbing his shirt. He pulled a condom from his shirt pocket as you pushed your jeans down your legs. He grasped the denim legs, impatiently, and pulled them off of you. He looked down at you as he dropped the jeans to to floor. "Wow." He swallowed, nervously. 

"Steve..." You reached forward and plucked the condom from his hand. "Have you ever- I mean, I know that you weren't much of a ladies' man and women back in the '30s didn't much-"

He chuckled, looking away slightly. "Don't worry about what women in the '30s were like. You're not one of them and I wouldn't want you to be."

You reached out and popped the button on his jeans. "You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't really finish asking it." He whispered.

You looked up into his eyes as you dragged his zipper down, slowly. "Are you a virgin, Steve?"

He gasped as you hooked your fingers in his pockets and started to pull his jeans down. "Gonna be a problem if I say 'yes'?"

You smiled, sweetly. "No. Just means I need to take my time, Army. I mean, you've been holdin' onto that V-card for almost a hundred years. If I don't make it worth the-"

"I only remember 30 of it and that's bad enough. Y/n, don't take too much time, please." He begged, reaching down to help you push his jeans off.

You ran your hand across the front of his tight white briefs, eliciting a small whimper from the super soldier. You licked your lips as you traced his erection through the fabric. "You know, I read that back in the day, blow jobs were super taboo. Like, the kinda fetish you had to pay big money at a brothel for. Sounds terrible."

"It wa-wasn't so taboo in Fr-France."

"You develop a stutter, Army?" You leaned forward and let your lips trace the same path your fingers had.

"Just havin' trouble remembering how to breathe." His words came out very deliberately. 

"Tell me about France, then." You said, hooking your fingers in his waistband and pulling his underwear down slowly.

"The Commandos and I went to Paris to celebrate after we dropped our third HYDRA base. Gabe and Jacques chatted up these gorgeous women, one for each of us. They put those GI condoms to good use, but I-" As soon as his underwear were down enough for his hard on bounce free, you wrapped your hand around it and pumped it softly. "I was savin' myself. Not necessarily for marriage, but... for the one."

"Uh-huh." _*Guess he gave up on that idea with Peggy gone.*_

"Giselle said she knew a way to have fun that wasn't... te- _technically_..."

"Ooh, Giselle." You giggled, before leaning forward and licking the head of his cock. The surprised and lustful noise he made gave you a surge of pride. You licked your way down to the nest of hair at the base of him, then licked the other side back up to the head where you let your lips slide over him and took in as much of the blood-engorged flesh as you could. You fought back the urge to gag as he poked the back of your throat. 

"Holy mother-" He whispered, his eyes closed tightly. You bobbed back and forth for a few minutes before dropping your hand from him and sucking roughly as you ripped open the foil packet and slid the condom out. You pulled back and started to roll the condom on.

Pushing the edge of the condom as far back as you could, you looked up at him. "You ready, Army?"

"You d-don't need me to do... any-"

You shook your head as you lied back on the bed. "I'm ready, Steve." You were. Between the anticipation and the heat of what had already happened, you were more than wet enough. 

"Are you sure?" He whispered, crawling on the bed and covering your body with his. "I want you to enjoy it as much as I-"

You smiled, cupping his cheek and bringing his face down to yours. "We'll deal with all that other stuff another time. I'll teach you all my favorite things, but right now, I really want you inside of me." You pressed your lips to his and he smiled, sweetly. You reached between the two of you and guided his cock to your entrance. "It's on you from here."

He looked into your eyes as he pushed his hips slowly forward. You wanted to close your eyes. It was too much. He was big and he was dragging it out so slowly. But you couldn't. His blues were hypnotic, forcing you to stare up into them until he finally stopped moving, his hips flush with yours. You swallowed and blinked, letting out a breath that you hadn't really even known you were holding. "You okay?" He asked. All you could do was nod. "Good." He whispered, before placing kisses to your neck and cheek. "Can I-?" His breath in your ear made you shiver.

"God, yes, please." You whispered back, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He pulled his hips back a little, then pushed them forward again. "Fuck."

"Language." You chuckled, bringing your hand up to run your hand through his hair as he gave a few more experimental pumps of his hips. "You, uh, you need to move more, Steve. Please." You begged, raising your hips to get him to move faster or harder or... more, just more.

"Anything for you, Doll." He grasped your hip with his left hand and picked up his speed, causing your eyes to clench and your breath to hitch. He dropped his mouth to your neck and gave you a few small bites. "You... you're amazing."

"You're doin' all the work." You scratched your fingernails across his back. He groaned and his hips stuttered. 

"Oh, sweet-" He started, before a high-pitched ringing sound rang out across the room. You wrapped your legs tighter around him as you realized it was his cell phone in his pants pocket.

"Ignore it." You whispered, biting at his neck with blunt teeth. "Call 'em back after."

Steve sighed heavily and pulled out, making you groan in disappointment. "We'll _finish_ after. Can't ignore a potential call for help, sweetheart."

You tossed your head back onto the pillow and sighed dramatically as he pulled his phone from his pants and answered. "You're such a fuckin' superhero."

He grinned, brightly, at the fake insult. "Rogers." His smile faltered at the words coming through the phone. "Is he okay?" He turned away from you and cleared his throat. "No. No, I'll be there in a few hours, Your Highness. Tell him I'm on my way."

There was a long tense moment of silence as he tapped his phone against the palm of his hand. "Steve?" You asked, sitting up. "Are you coming back to bed or... who was on the phone?"

His fingers closed around the plastic. "It was T'challa. One of his enemies got into his lab, sabotaged several of the machines, including Bucky's cryo tank." He bent to step into his pants and slip them on. "He's okay, but he's awake and the cryo tank is down until T'challa and his scientists figure out how to fix it. I'm gonna bring him here for safety until..." His voice trailed off as he retrieved his shirt from the floor by the baby bouncer. 

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. "Steve."

"Y/n. I don't-"

You stood, letting the sheet fall to the floor. "Don't push me away."

He put a hand on your shoulder and took a step backward. "I have to go get Bucky." He whispered, before turning and quickly slipping out of your room.

You took a deep breath and ran your hand across your face. He hadn't even _looked_ at you after the phone call. "Fuck!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Steve's gonna see it as a sign from God." You complained, taking a drink of coffee.

"Well, how do you see it?" Wanda asked.

"I don't... it doesn't matter. If Steve's done, then we're done." You answered. 

"Steve would only be done if he thought you wanted to go be with Bucky." Sam reasoned.

You shook your head. "He couldn't even look at me, Sam. The shame on his face, shame at being with me... he's not coming back to me." You chuckled without humor. "Bucky is just too big an obstacle."

"I'm sorry." Wanda said, softly.

"Hey, at least I was right." You said, standing and traveling toward George's room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the jet came in several hours later, you were feeding George in his room. Wanda appeared and took him from you, wordlessly. "Do I really want-"

"Go." She interrupted.

You took a deep breath and, walking slowly, entered the lounge area just off the garage/hangar. They walked in together, Steve doing his best to hide the guilty tension with a bright smile. Bucky's eyes grew big when they fell on you. "Y/n!" He ran forward, wrapping his arms around you. You melted into it, the familiar smell of him washing over you. "What are you doin' here?"

You pulled back, looking up into his brilliant blues. "Steve didn't tell you?"

"Figured you'd want to break that news yourself, Miss y/l/n." Steve said, moving past without a glance in your direction.

"Thanks, Steve." You spat. You didn't mean for it to sound so pissed off, but you were. You looked up at Bucky's confused yet happy face and you swallowed. "I'm here because it's the safest place for me, Milo and Georgie."

"Georgie?"

You nodded. "Our son."

" _Our_ son?" He asked, taking a step back, his hands still on your shoulders. "As in-"

"Yeah. Congratulations, Brooklyn. You're a daddy."

He looked around in awe for a minute before pulling you to him and kissing your forehead. "I'm a dad!" He grabbed your waist and spun you around. "Steve, we need cigars! I'm a dad!" You looked up at him in surprise. You had not expected him to be this excited about George. "Where is he? How old is he? He's named George? Did you do that on purpose, 'cause you know, _my_ dad was named George?"

You bit your lip. "He's 7 months old. He's in his room with Wanda, and of course I named him that on purpose. He's George Steven Barnes."

"Come on, Doll, take me to meet our son." Bucky took your hand and you led him down the hall to George's room. Wanda gave a smile as she stood, George making babbling noises.

"Hello, Sergeant Barnes. You're here for George?" She offered the baby to the soldier, who took him and looked down at him with an awed expression.

"Wow." He said, in a breathy whisper. "You made this, Doll."

"You helped." You said, with a smile.

"No. No, I just planted a damn seed. _You_ made this... man, look at those eyes. You got some gorgeous eyes, kiddo." He looked up to grin at you. "He's perfect."

"He's Enhanced."

"He _is_?" You nodded. "So, he's better than perfect."

You scoffed. "You know, I really didn't think you were gonna react this way."

"What? Why?" He asked, looking down at George.

"Because you never answered the phone. Because you disappeared when I still had a week left in Romania. Because you didn't even say a proper 'Goodbye'."

He turned away. "If I answered... It was better for me to be alone as long as I could be. If you'd been around when shit hit the fan with Zemo..."

"No, you don't get to use that. I wasn't asking to stay. You shot that down as soon as I thought it. I wanted _you_ to stay until I left. I wanted you to answer your phone so I could tell you I was pregnant. I wanted you to have some idea of our son's personality because he got sick a few months ago and Chemo is scary and big." You cleared your throat. "I'm here because Steve stepped up when you stepped out. Steve got a SHIELD doctor to fix Georgie and brought us here to keep him out of the hands of people who'd use him as a weapon, like the ones who used _you_ as a weapon."

Bucky handed George to Wanda, who left the room with him. "Doll, look. It was just easier to-"

"-pretend you never met me. Pretend nothing real exists between us. Pretend it never happened because that's easier for the Solitary Soldier, but that's not best for me and Georgie."

"Look, Doll, I-"

"I'm not your 'Doll', Brooklyn. If you want _that_ back, it'll take a bit of time and effort." You shook your head. _*Bucky Barnes taking time and effort. Yeah, that'll happen.*_ "Because I didn't wait for you." 

His face fell, anger and disappointment causing his eyes to widen slightly. You swallowed, then took a steadying breath. "You didn't really expect me to, did you? You made the decision that I couldn't be with you, that I wasn't safe and you weren't safe with me around. You never answered the phone. Besides, we were always supposed to be temporary, remember?"

"Yeah, but we made something permanent."

"And you didn't want to know about it! I called, Bucky, and I wrote a letter. I know you got it, because Rogers found you at the same apartment I addressed the letter to. You didn't want to know! So, I moved on!"

He scoffed. "Well, that's fine by me, Doll. You lettin' some other crumb curl your toes doesn't mean a damn thing to me, but that kid... You ain't lettin' anybody else play Daddy to my son, you get me?"

" _Wanda_ has been more of a father to Georgie than you probably ever will be."

"Prikusi yazyk!" Bucky growled.

"Speak English, Jackass." You rolled your eyes, turning away from him and heading out the door.

"I said, 'Bite your tongue'." 

"Yeah, 'cause it was so much harder to say that in English." You growled, slamming the door behind you and rushing for your bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I wasn't expecting her to wait around for me, but I was hoping she'd have the decency to stay mum about it if she didn't hang on, you know? What kinda broad rubs it in a guy's face that she made it with another man while he was basically in the hoosegow?"

"You weren't in prison, Bucky. You _chose_ to go under." Steve said, looking across his desk at Bucky, who was picking the nails of his right hand with the tip of his knife. "She tell you anything about the guy?"

"Nah, but I didn't really ask. He ain't around now, right, so he obviously wasn't much. Just kills me that she told me there was another guy, at all. It's like she wanted me jealous, or somethin'."

Steve sighed. "Well, are you? Are you going to try to... fix things with her?"

"Of course, I am. I mean, I pushed her off 'cause I wanted her safe, but now she's in it. She's in it because of our son. I love her and she is the mother of my son, so... just have to figure out the best way to approach it."

Steve stood. "An apology would probably be a good place to start. Then, maybe a burger and a couple beers. Let her remember why she..."

Bucky flicked his knife closed and pushed it into his pocket as he stood. "So, have they been here long? y/n and Milo and George, I mean."

"Couple months. Since George got out of the hospital." 

"Well, thanks for takin' care of them."

"Of course, Buck." Steve smiled, tightly. "But _you're_ here, now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat in the lounge, watching Georgie pull himself up to a standing position using the arm of a chair. Clint dropped into the seat next you. "So, we're not talking about it, right?" He asked, quietly, looking around the lounge.

"Nothing to talk about."

"Really, 'cause-"

"Clint." You turned to him. "Steve's acting like it didn't happen, so who am I to argue?"

"What, are we afraid that Barnes' is gonna-"

"I don't give a fuck what Barnes does." You slid to your knees and grabbed George's hands, holding him up to help him walk from the chair to the couch. "But Steve cares about that more than anything. Steve cares about Bucky more than he cares about-" You shook your head. "So, it's not a big thing. We're not talking about it."

"It just sucks 'cause you guys coulda been great."

"Clint, dude... shut up."

"I'm just sayin'... have you even tried to talk to Steve? Cap's kinda-"

You sighed. "Fine." You handed George to the archer and stood. "I'll talk to him." You took a deep breath and headed for Steve's office. You knocked on the door and stepped inside. "Steve."

"Miss y/l/n." He looked up from his sketch book and focused on a point just above your head. He still wasn't looking at you, still calling you by your last name.

You closed the door to his office and stalked around his desk. He dropped his sketch book to the desktop and pushed away from you in his rolling desk chair, but you grabbed the armrests and stopped him. You knew he could pull away more if he wanted, but you wanted to make an attempt. "Steve. I'm getting tired of this shit. You can't go from fucking me and callin' me 'sweetheart' to not even _looking_ at me and callin' me 'ma'am'."

He shook his head. "I can. I am. Bucky's-"

"Irrelevant! Bucky is irrelevant. He abandoned me. I deserve-"

"Bucky is excited about George and he's happy that you're here." Steve reached out, pushing you away from him. He stood, towering over you. "Bucky woke up before we finished... what we were doing. We can make a clean break."

"And if I don't want to break?" 

"It's not up to you." He pushed past you and your shoulders slumped. 

"You're _just_ like him." You whispered. He turned, but didn't question your assessment. "Makin' decisions for me. He decided I couldn't handle being around him in Bucharest, that he'd get us both killed but he really meant that I'd be freaking distraction. You are deciding that I should be with Bucky. You decided as soon as you heard he was awake. Doesn't matter what or... what or who I want. It's all about what you guys can let happen." You sat in his chair with your feet tucked under you. "Fine. You two _old men_ obviously know better than me."

Steve took a deep breath, then turned. "We do." His voice was deep and his tone resolute as he walked out of the office.

You stared after him for a minute, willing yourself not to cry, before you noticed his sketch book. If he was going to be rude to you, then you were gonna snoop. You flipped the cover open and looked down at a picture of Wanda and Sam enjoying coffee. You flipped a few pages, then a few more before coming to a picture of you. It was dated a month and a half previous and was a near picture-quality drawing of you smiling down at George in your arms. You flipped another page. It was another one of you. So was the next one and the next one and the next. All gorgeously rendered pictures of your face and arms. Then came another of you, with a slight difference; this one had your full body and you were dressed in the red skater dress from the lunch date at the Italian restaurant. It was dated the night you moved into Secret Avenger's HQ. He seemed to have spent a lot of extra detail on the outline of your breasts in the dress, but it wasn't indecent. You moved to the next drawing and gasped. It was you, nude. It was obviously a fantasy drawing, since it was drawn before he ever asked you out, but it was... beautiful. It was drawn in pin-up style, with your legs crossed and a thin feather boa covering your nipples, and it made you feel a bit like Bettie Page. Dated two weeks before he asked you out. Another, similar but with a different pose, was drawn the next day. And a few more after that. Until you came to one that could be described as 'full-frontal'. No boas, no crossed legs to obscure the goods. Somehow, it still didn't seem obscene until you flipped to the page he drew the day after your first date. You were on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you sucked his dick, which he'd rendered very well. Well, he'd know exactly what his own junk looked like.

The next drawing was you riding him, his hands kneading your breasts. The look of rapture on your face was a stark contrast to the pain in your heart. You dropped the book to his desk and took a steadying breath. 

_*Fine. That's just fine. Steve and Bucky wanna make decisions for me, that's fine. But I don't have to go the way they want me to. Steve wants to sacrifice something real for the sake of his friendship, I don't have to stick around and watch it break apart.*_

You waited until everyone was asleep before you snuck into George's room and quietly picked him up, putting him in his sling and shushing him back to sleep. Leaving the safety of Secret Avengers' Headquarters was a big decision and you probably didn't put enough thought into it, but as you left it behind you didn't cry. If they could both leave you behind so easily, you weren't going to shed any tears about leaving them behind with each other. They deserved each other. You turned to Milo with a small smile. "Es tut mir Lied." 

"Warum?"

"You were happy there. Wir gehen wegen mir ab."

"I'm Roma, y/n. Leaving is what we do."

"Guess I'm Roma, now, too." You whispered, leaning your head against the window and closing your eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What do you mean, 'they are gone'?" Steve asked, looking over his coffee cup at Wanda.

"Y/n, George, Milo, gone. A suitcase gone from each room, all of the diapers and formula from the nursery... y/n's car."

"Did they say anything before they left? Leave a note?"

"Far as I can tell, Steve, _you_ were the last one y/n talked to. There were no notes." 

Steve sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He stood as the other end rang. _**"You've reached y/n's phone. I don't answer if I don't know the number, so leave a message and I might ring back later."**_ The cheerful voicemail message greeted before a beep. "Y/n, where are you? You can't just disappear like this. It's not safe. Think of Georgie. Don't let our personal shit put your son in danger. Call me." He whispered, shutting the phone as Bucky walked into the kitchen. "Hey, Buck."

"So, when'd she blow?"

Steve sighed. "Sometime last night." 

"Must've pushed her too hard about the other guy." Bucky grabbed an apple from the counter and leaned against it as he looked expectantly at Steve. "So, what are we doing? I could probably track her pretty easy, but I wouldn't want to call attention."

Steve cleared his throat. "Sam, Wanda and Clint can find her. You and I will stay here for if she comes back."

"You sure? I could stay and you could go look for-"

"I'm fine to stay."

"You think she's with that other Joe?" Bucky asked, taking a bite of the apple.

"Nah. You don't have to worry about the other Joe. He's nothing. She's _your_ girl."

"Seems like she doesn't agree, Steve, or she'd be here."

"She'll come around. I'm gonna send the others to find her." Steve walked away, pulling his phone from his pocket again. He stood in the hallway outside of her bedroom and waited for the voicemail greeting to finish. "Y/n, answer your phone. I know you're mad at me, but you can't just leave. It's not safe. We're worried. Bucky's worried, _I'm_ worried. Come back. We can talk about this." He sighed, looking into her bedroom at the open drawers and the obvious chaos of her leaving. "I can't fix this the way you want me to, but I can't fix it, at all, if you're gone. y/n, come back. You and George are too important to leave so much to chance. Sweetheart, please. At least call to let me know that you're safe." Steve leaned his head against the doorjamb and pushed the phone back into his pocket. "Fuck!" He whispered to no one. 


	6. Forgiveness

You silenced your phone as it started ringing again. "You should turn that off. They can track the GPS chip in it." Milo suggested.

You looked down at your lap. You kind of liked having the knowledge that Steve was still trying to get a hold of you, but you supposed your brother was right. Steve and Bucky would be looking for you and Bucky was very good at finding people. You called into your Voicemail box as it dinged with a new message. Steve begged you to return, calling you 'sweetheart' and asking you to let him fix it. You sighed and shook your head, hitting the buttons to record a new outgoing message. "I'm turning this phone off. If your best friend's heart is more important than mine and yours, then I know where I stand and that's far away from either of you. Congratulations, Army. You finally found an obstacle you can't overcome: the will of a woman who refuses to take a consolation prize." You accepted the change and immediately turned the phone off. 

Milo immediately took the closest exit on the interstate. "Now, we double back zee vay vee came. They will track the GPS going South and assume we went home. We will go North, then West. How do you feel for Canada?"

"Canada? I... I've never considered it. I don't think I have my passport. And I haven't gotten one for Georgie, yet."

"It's okay. I know a guy. My cousin, Deiter, is very good with paperwork. I think he's in London right now. We'll send him pictures and money, he'll send us passports. We'll get Canadian ones and Canadian driver papers, too. Start thinking of a name you want for you and George."

"Make it easy. Jane and George Smith."

"Okay. We will take passport photos when we stop."

"Thanks, Milo."

*********

"So, what do we know about them?" Natasha asked.

"Milo's a gypsy, well-versed in dropping everything and starting over somewhere new." Bucky provided.

"He's her only family. Except her mom, but they fell out of touch after her dad admitted to his affair." Steve answered, rubbing his hands together. "Her mom lives in Atlanta and I think I've got a phone number for her jotted down somewhere, but I doubt they went to her." 

"Okay. Where do we think she went?" Clint asked.

"Probably Canada." Bucky said, leaning against the wall of the lounge. "She's never gone on the run, but her brother definitely has and he'd take her North. Probably charter a boat across Superior and get a car on the other side."

"Canada. Canada's kinda big." Natasha said, amused.

"Yeah, well, they wouldn't go to the big cities, yet. Too many cameras and they know that we're looking for them. Probably central territories... Saskatchewan or Manitoba, not Ontario because they'd want to get as far away from their crossing point as possible."

The Widow nodded. "I've got this. Don't worry about her." She pulled her phone out and started walking toward the garage. "You owe me a favor, Wilson."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stared at the 25 inch box TV in your motel room and waited for Milo to return. The boredom was the worst part of being on the lam. You stood from the double bed closest to the bathroom as Milo walked into the room with a large orange envelope. "Here they are. Pässe und Führerscheine."

He poured the envelope out on the bed and handed you a driver's license and a passport, which you opened. It had your picture and definitely looked real to you. "Wow! Those are some quality fakes. Decal's a skosh on the big side, but most folks won't even notice."

"Who the hell are you?!" Milo exclaimed, turning to the open window where a man in a red and black outfit with a mask sat on the sill.

"Deadpool. Or, you know, 'Wade' if we're being friendly. I think we're being friendly, so 'Wade', it is. You know, 'Wade' like the fat kid from _Kim Possible._ " His tone changed slightly as he continued. "I don't think it  _is_ an outdated reference. She looks old enough to remember the awesomeness of KP and he's  _definitely_ old enough... but he did grow up in Germany so maybe he didn't get to watch the Disney Channel." He gasped dramatically. "Think of all of the Disney Channel Original Movies he missed out on!" 

"Excuse me!" You stepped forward. "No, put the gun down. It won't touch him." You warned Milo, who went for the revolver in his duffel. "He's an artificial mutant with a healing ability so advanced that he's practically unkillable."

" _Someone_ did the reading." The masked man joked.

"What reading?" Milo asked.

" _'Marvel's Big Book of Superheroes.'_ " Deadpool responded for you.

"What?"

"He's not a hero." You said, as Deadpool jumped down from the windowsill. "He's a mercenary. Who sent you?"

"She  _did_ do the homework! Do I have gold star stickers on me? She  _so_ deserves one!" He patted his skin-tight suit, then shrugged. "Later. Anyway. I admit, tracking down a couple of gypsies is not my usual job, but Natasha called and said you rabbited North and reminded me of a favor I owed her. It's been a long time since I saw the Mother Country, and it's not like I could say 'no'. I mean, the writer needed a Canadian character and Wolverine was busy."

"What are you talking about?" You asked, shaking your head in confusion.

"Doesn't matter." He dismissed. "So, what's the thought? What are we running from?"

You sighed. "Natasha didn't tell you  _why_ you were heading to Saskatchewan?"

"Didn't ask. I owe her  _and_ she paid me $5,000, so... tell Dead-y what the trouble is."

"It's personal. Why should we tell some obviously unhinged mutant man our business?"

"Look, Adolf, I'm still trying to determine whether I'm gonna just take that baby and your sister back to the States by force or not, so why don't you sit down and let the lady explain why she's in a motel in Regina pretending she's 'Jane Smith'."

You shook your head as Milo sat on the bed. "Not that it's any of your business,  _Wade_ , but I'm in a motel in Regina pretending to be someone else because I couldn't stay in the bunker with a bunch of people who know..." You scratched at your head. "I was starting a relationship with someone and George's father showed up. It stopped the other thing cold and I just couldn't be stuck there, between two men, so I left. The fake papers under fake names are just to keep various agencies off the trail of my son."

"I'm holding back a joke about being between two men. So, the baby... he a mutant?"

"Not... not like the X-men, no. He doesn't have the gene. He's..."

"Like me? Oh, tell me he's a Chemically Enhanced."

"He's the first documented second-generation enhanced. His father was a super soldier."

"Neat!" The mercenary looked down at the sleeping child. "So, you don't wanna go back because of boyfriend drama and you have to hide your identity because your kid's a Supe?"

"Pretty much, yeah. I haven't done anything to warrant being dragged back to the United States by force."

" _Well_ , you are in Justin's country illegally."

"What?" Milo's eyebrows tucked together in confusion.

"Justin Trudeau, or as I like to call him, 'The World's Sexiest Diplomat'." Deadpool responded.

"You think the Prime Minister of Canada would have a problem with a woman and her child seeking shelter in his country?" You shook your head. "Justin Trudeau is pro-immigrant, pro-refugee, pro-Mutant and pro-Inhuman. No way he'd have me thrown out for crossing Lake Superior in a boat instead of driving through a border check."

"Yeah, but if you made a fuss, you'd broadcast your whereabouts and baby Terminator's condition. The exact opposite of what you want."

You took a deep breath. "Okay, Wade. You're right. You found us and we've got no recourse if you wanna take us back to New York. Literally, couldn't stop you if we tried. So... Just let us get our stuff together, okay?"

"So, which one's the dad?" Wade asked, dropping onto the floor to examine George, who looked at him in sleepy wonder.

"What?"

"Am I speaking French? Cause that happens sometime. Had an ex who was Quebecois, sometimes the Froggy speak just flows on out." 

"I'm pretty sure she just didn't understand the question, Mr. Pool."

"What do you mean, 'Which  _one_ '?" You clarified.

"There aren't very many men in the world who count as 'Super soldiers'. Proximity to Natasha brings it down to 2: Mr. Spangles and the Chilly Soldier. So, which one's this little guy gonna look like when  _he's_ getting spandex wedgies?" He looked up and you thought you saw him raise his eyebrow under his mask.

You rolled your eyes. "Rogers has been a model father... for the last few weeks. But Georgie's going to look like Barnes."

"Oh! No wonder you don't wanna be around them. You're trying to prevent a bro-fight."

"No. Nothing so altruistic. When Barnes came back, Rogers decided that I should be with Barnes because of George and wouldn't listen to what I wanted, so I left because I'm a grown woman and it's the 21st century and I'm not going to let a couple of old men decide what I'm doing with my life." You leaned down to start packing your bag. "Of course, they're still making decisions for me. Sending you to take me." 

Milo stayed seated on the bed, not moving, looking at his feet. You stood, swallowing as you looked at him. "Mi?"

"Ich gehen nirgendwohin." He said, quietly. Your face fell as your brother, your rock of the last two years, refused to leave. "They don't want me, y/n, and I don't want to be there. I don't want to abandon you, but... Roma roam. I'm already here. I have information about jobs. I have papers. I will keep in contact with you, call everyday, but... I can't go back there."

You nodded. "I understand." You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around your brother. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deadpool stopped to talk to Natasha and Clint as soon as you crossed the threshold from the garage into the bunker. You bypassed everyone else as you stomped angrily toward the dorms. Bucky looked at his boots as you passed but Steve followed you into the hallway. You ignored his presence until you were in George's room, when he grabbed your arm. "Don't touch me." You spat, placing the baby in his crib and dropping teething keys in with him to distract him. He pulled his hand back like he'd been burned as you turned to glare at him. "You don't get to touch me, Captain Rogers. You don't get to act like sending a  _mercenary_ after me is okay."

"Well, if you'd answered your damn phone, we wouldn't have had to rely on that fool Wilson!"

"Well, Wade may be a fool, but at least he understands why I don't want to be here. At least he understands that a 21st century woman doesn't belong to anybody and passing me off to your best friend like I'm a... a toy to take turns with-"

"Bucky loves you! I never should've laid a finger on you."

"You're right. You shouldn't have. But not because of Bucky. You never should've made a move if you didn't have the balls to go through with it."

Steve's jaw ticked as he took a deep breath to belay his anger. "Y/n, you don't understand. I-"

"I understand just fine, Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes is family, the closest thing you've got to a brother, so you'll go through crucibles for his health and safety, the rest of us be damned. I understand that. I got a brother, too. One who refused to come back to New York just so that you can alleviate your guilt about feeling something for your best friend's baby's momma. Which you don't actually have a right to force me to do."

"Well, Bucky has the right to see Georgie."

"No, he doesn't. That  _murderer_ has no rights to  _my_ son. Georgie doesn't have a father. No one touches my son."

"But-"

"I'm not above seeking asylum with SHIELD from my Hydra assassin ex. Oh, and don't forget that I know the location of this secret bunker, Captain. I'm sure Secretary Ross would  _love_ that info." Steve's jaw tightened at that, and it felt good to have some leverage against him, even if you never intended to use it. "You should've left me in Canada, but since you couldn't manage that, you can just leave me alone." You pointed at the door and Steve took the hint. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the door locked behind him, Steve rubbed his hand down his face. How had he fucked up so badly when he was trying to do the right thing? A noise down the hall pulled his attention to Bucky, who was staring at him with a single eyebrow raised. "You got somethin' you need to tell me, Steve?"

"Shit." Steve whispered, his shoulders slumping. "Not here." He pointed toward Bucky's room, then followed his friend in.

Bucky sat in the folding chair he'd brought into the room when he first arrived and looked across the room at Steve. "So, you're the other Joe, huh?"

"I'm sorry, Buck. It was just the one date, and I broke it off with her as soon as T'challa called." Steve sighed, guiltily.

"Well, no wonder she's throwing a hissy-fit."

Steve nodded. "Yeah, it's all my-"

"Captain America broke up with her for his best friend." Bucky said, with a bit of a smirk. "You gotta be careful or she's gonna get the same idea in her head that Gina Sandusky did when I stood her up to take care of you when you had the flu. In my defense, flu could've killed your skinny ass."

Steve chuckled. "She doesn't think we're gay, Bucky."

"Well, I know  _I'm_ not, but if you walked away from that woman, you're either a nancy or an idiot."

"I'm an idiot, then, putting my friendship in front of-"

"Definitely an idiot, Steve." Bucky stood. "You know... I've seen that woman naked, so if you got anywhere close to where  _I_  got with her, you're the dumbest punk I ever met."

"You are taking this a lot better than I thought you would, Buck."

"Yeah, well... I'm actually glad it was you, man. Thinking of some random guy putting it to her..." Bucky shook his head. "You, though, I know you wouldn't disrespect or hurt her, wouldn't be a bad influence on the kid. If there had to be another man, you know..." 

Steve nodded. Now that he was having this conversation, it seemed ridiculous that he'd gone so far to avoid it. "Thanks." 

"She left because you pushed her away?" Steve nodded and Bucky put his hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Well, then, you better go pull her close, 'cause I ain't lettin' you be the reason my son disappears again."

"Wait. I-"

"I'm going back under when T'Challa gets his stuff fixed. She needs someone who knows how to treat a woman. And, honestly, Steve, you know her. You've had two months with her, I ran after two  _weeks_. She's right that I didn't pick up the phone, that I didn't open the letter. I couldn't handle it." Bucky shook his head, sadly. "But you can. I'm giving my blessing, Steve. She doesn't want to let me make up for running out on her, and honestly, I could never let myself love her as much as she deserves. You can."

"She basically just told me not to talk to her, anymore. I..." Steve shook his head. "I think I might've really messed this up."

"She 'the One'?" Bucky asked, dropping his hand from Steve's shoulder. 

Steve knew what he meant. "We were in bed when T'Challa called. We didn't... finish, but... yeah, Buck. She's the One."

"Then, fix it. Fight for it. She'll come around. She's reasonable... mostly." Bucky punched Steve's shoulder. "What a dumbass you turned out to be. Spurning the One."

"Yeah, well, you're the dumbass who left her alone first." 

Bucky chuckled. "Right, you are, man." 

Steve shook his head. "I don't even know where to start fixing this. Do I let her calm down, first, or do I just go in there and beg forgiveness?"

"Don't beg for shit. Be a man, go in there and tell her that you fucked up for the sake of our friendship and that isn't an issue anymore."

"Somehow, I don't think that's gonna be enough, Bucky."

"Definitely not. Y/n's a stubborn dame, but it's a good place to start."

"Right." Steve ran his hand down his face. "Well, no time like the present."

**************

You sat up in the rocking chair and stretched. Sleeping on the small piece of wooden furniture was always hard on your back and neck, but you hadn't wanted to risk leaving the nursery. You moved forward to check on George, who was still sleeping in his crib. You pulled your phone from your pocket and checked the time. 3:02 am. Your stomach growled at you and you came to the conclusion that your hunger must've woken you. You moved silently to the door and opened it slowly, checking left then right to see if there was anyone in the hall. You rushed toward the kitchen, hoping to get something to eat before anyone noticed you. You stopped at the end of the hallway, as you came to the end and looked up at a sketch pinned to the wall. It was an obviously quickly drawn picture of him on his knees in front of what had to have been you.  **I'M SORRY**  was written in Sharpie across the top of the paper. You shook your head. Not gonna cut it. You kept moving toward the kitchen, but you stopped again when another sketch came into view, this time pinned to the kitchen door.  **I'M AN IDIOT**  caught your attention before the sketch did.  _*No argument here*_  you thought, before examining the picture. It was a picture of Steve in a dunce cap, sitting in a chair, resting his chin in his hand and looking pathetic. You couldn't help but chuckle... and then gasp as you walked into the kitchen.

A giant picture covered a 10x20 area on the far wall. It was printed off of a computer, each sheet of printer paper covering 1/200 of a sketch, this one lovingly done in painstaking detail, of you and Steve dancing at Moe-ma's.  **FORGIVE** **ME** was the thick-lettered request at the top of the massive page. You bit your lip, but you shook your head. You weren't ready to be swayed. Shaking your head made your eyes fall on another 10x20 masterpiece, this one of you holding a list titled:  _ **all the ways Steve messed up**_. The plea at the top of this one asked simply:  **Can we talk?**

You sighed as you walked away, your hunger forgotten as you headed for the office as indicated at the bottom of the picture. Steve was sitting at his desk, watching an old black and white movie on his computer when you opened the door. "As grand gestures go, 20 foot tall pictures are a pretty good start." You whispered. "So, I take it that Brooklyn figured it out?"

Steve nodded, turning off the monitor and standing. "Yeah, he followed me following you last night, heard you yelling at me."

"You yelled more than I did. I mostly just... bitched." You closed the door and looked at your feet. "Since there wasn't a super soldier smackdown last night, I'm assuming he was okay with it."

"Surprisingly."

"It doesn't change what you did." Your eyes jumped up to his, then back to your feet.

He nodded, sadly. "I know." 

"Steve... I tried. Tried to get you to understand before I ever left. You didn't get it."

"I do, now." He stepped closer, but still a good 5 feet away. "I thought you were still in love with him. I thought... you know, lay down and let Bucky step up and you'd  _want_ him. That a few days with him and you'd want him because that's all it took in Bucharest was a few days."

"But I was... I was  _alone_ in Bucharest." You whispered, exasperated. "My dad had just died, my mom wouldn't talk to me and I was searching for a brother I had no connection to. I didn't have any family, hadn't had a boyfriend in years. Bucky trusted me and we connected and that was strong and amazing but what  _we_ were working toward-"

"Was something real. I know. I think that kinda terrified me, honestly." He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "I'm not good at relationships. Never had need to be. Peggy was the closest I ever got, but..."

"I was trying to help with that, Steve. I was trying to make this easy, but you tossed me aside."

"Y/n. That was never my intention. Bucky had a chance at everything  _I_  ever wanted and I thought it was the right thing to let him have it."

"But I wanted  _you_. I didn't want to set up with Barnes. He left me.  _He_ left me and  _you_ pushed me away. And then you wouldn't let me leave. Do you know how confusing that is?"

"I know."

"You keep saying that, but it doesn't mean anything! You know, but you did it, anyway!"

"I didn't- y/n, just listen. I'm sorry. I wasn't hurting or confusing you on purpose. I was trying to do the right thing. Yes, I fucked up and what I thought was right wasn't and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. What can I do?" 

You sighed, his desperate tone causing you to stop and question your motivation for staying mad. "I don't know, Steve. I... I'm still mad. I haven't even considered what it'd take for me to stop being upset about this. You pushed me off on Bucky, didn't want to let me make my own decisions, and then you sent Deadpool after me. Deadpool, who is  _literally_ insane." 

"Well, Natasha's the one who actually sent Wade to find you." Steve defended, quietly. "I know he's crazy. He was crazy before he was crazy, but... I needed to talk to you. I needed you back here, and I tried asking. I tried everything I could think of before letting Natasha send a merc after you."

You sighed. "I just don't see how things could possibly get better here, though. Bucky will always be the most important person for you."

"No. I mean, Bucky  _is_ incredibly important to me, but... so are you. I've never... I've never...shit, y/n, I told you that you're the One."

Your jaw dropped. "What? No... what?"

He chuckled. "I told you why I was waiting for so long."

"I... I'm not-" You swallowed.

"You are... and yeah, I'm the idiot who was trying to push the One off on his best friend so that he could have some happiness and I still feel like Bucky deserves some happiness, but that happiness isn't you. Might be Georgie, if you ever decide that Georgie needs a dad, but..." Steve shook his head. "We deserve to be happy, right? Me and you?"

"Of... of course, we do. That's what I was trying to say!"

"Well, you can't start a conversation with 'Bucky's irrelevant' because that just makes me go on his defensive." He took another step toward you. "What do I do, here, doll?"

You sighed. Could you just let it go? Give it another shot? "You have to recognize that I'm... I'm allowed to make my own decisions, Steve."

"Of course, you are."

"But you weren't letting me. That can't happen. I'm a grown woman and a mother and... fuck it." You sighed, lunging at him slightly to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss. His hands rested on your hips as your lips moved against each other and you both closed your eyes. "I'm still mad at you." You said, dropping your hands from his neck.

"I'll make it up to you, Doll." He whispered, moving his hands up to your neck, his thumbs caressing the column of your throat. 

"Yeah? How're you gonna do that?" You whispered back.

"I'll think of something, sweetheart." He captured your lips again and pushed you into the office door. Your body flushed with heat at the memory of last time he pushed you into a wall.

"Steve. Your phone better be off." You whispered, pulling the button of his jeans open. 

He chuckled into your ear as he pushed one hand into his pocket, producing the phone. He used only two fingers to slide the back cover off and knock the battery out of place. "No interruptions." He promised, kissing you and tossing it behind him.

Your hands stilled, fingers on his zipper, as you looked up into his eyes. "Condom. We need a condom."

"I have a box in my room." He whispered, putting one arm around your back and sweeping you off your feet with the other behind your knees. You giggled quietly as he carried you toward his room like it was the first night of your honeymoon. When he dropped you to his perfectly-made firm twin bed, you were kind of happy to mess up his pristine military box-cornered sheets. He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a condom from the box before turning to gaze at you. "You're so beautiful."

You looked down. "Yeah? In my clothes I slept in, with my hair a mess from sleeping in the rocking chair?"

"Lying on my bed, looking like you belong there." He responded, kneeling on the bed next to you.

"That's 'cause I  _do_ , dummy. I belong on your bed, and in your arms and you belong inside-" He cut you off with a kiss, but you hadn't really planned to finish the sentence. He pressed you into the bed with his weight, condom forgotten in his hand as you savored the flavor of your tongues moving together. 

He pulled back and looked down at you. "I love you."

Your breath caught. It was so honest and open. "I love you, too, Steve."

"Now, please, get naked." He said, sitting up fully and pulling his shirt off. You sat up, pulling your t-shirt over your head and unbuttoning your jeans. You left the bra clasped, but didn't hesitate in kicking off your jeans and panties. "You remembered." He smiled, reaching behind your back to undo the bra.

"I haven't forgotten a single moment of that night. From super sexy beginnings to crushing disappointment."

"Well, that's not something we need to think about right now. No disappointment tonight." He said, leaning down to kiss you.

"Big talk for someone who's still pretty much a virgin." You whispered, as his lips moved to your neck. 

"In the eyes of the Lord and my dead mother, I stopped being a virgin-"

"Can you not talk about your mother right now?" You tried to snap at him, but a moan ruined that plan. His mouth had found the spot on your shoulder that turned you to jelly. You could feel his erection rubbing against your thigh and it was glaringly obvious that he was wearing his jeans still. "Steve, why are you wearing-"

"Shhh. Let me finish what I'm doin', Doll." He whispered, kissing his way down your body. He stopped to place kisses along your hipbone before dipping his tongue along the juncture where your hip and leg met.

"Steve, you don't need to-" 

"You did it for me... and honestly, y/n, I've been wanting to know how you taste since the first time I dreamed of you."

"You dreamed of me?" You whispered as he went back to kissing across your pubic bone. 

"All the time." He answered, bringing his right hand to skim down your lips and spread them. "And this looks better than the best dream I ever fuckin' had." The moan you released as he began to enthusiastically lick and suck at you almost drowned out the eager and happy little noises he let loose. 

"Fuck, Steve. You are, fuck, so good at that. How are you-" You moaned as his tongue dipped deep inside you like he was trying to find a prize. It didn't take long for you to be squirming under him, so close to cumming and yet so far from your goal of having Captain America inside of you where he belongs. "Steve, please. Pants off. Condom on, now."

He pulled back, looking up at you with lust-blown blue eyes as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Yes, ma'am." He rolled off of the bed and kicked off his shoes, taking his pants and briefs off as you ripped open the foil of the condom wrapper. You reached forward and rolled the condom on, down to the base, loving the grunt he gave when you pulled your hand away. "Damn, y/n."

"Come on, Army." You whispered, scooting back on the bed until your head hit his pillow. "Time to make dreams come true."

He knelt on the bed and crawled up your body. "My dreams started coming true the moment you agreed to dinner." He whispered, kissing his way up the valley between your breasts as he settled his hips between your legs.

"God, you are so cheesy. I love it." You whispered.

"You haven't dreamed of this?" He whispered into your ear, taking your earlobe between his lips and tugging playfully.

"Yes. Of course, I have." You whispered back, wrapping your legs around his waist. "You've been in my dreams for months."

"I love you, y/n. You need to know how much before I-before we-" He stuttered.

You reached up and brought his lips to meet yours. "I love you, too, Steve. You are everything I've ever wanted. Now, please. God, please." 

"I'm not God." He joked, but he released your earlobe and reached down to line himself up with your entrance. "Fuck." He whispered as he pushed into you, inch by inch. "You're so tight."

"No, I'm not. You're... just so big." You moaned. "God bless the scientist who enhanced you."

"Actually, Doll, this was all mine. Looked a  _lot_  bigger when my body was frail." His hips met yours as he bottomed out and he kissed your neck. "Erskine said once that it might've caused my spine to go crooked if I didn't make the cut for the serum."

"I wouldn't doubt it." You said, pulling him down for another passionate kiss.

"Hang on tight, sweetheart. I am not going to take a leisurely pace this time. I want to see your marbles crack."

"Is that 1930s slang for an orgasm?" You asked.

"I think it's a lot less vulgar than saying..." He pulled his hips back and slammed them forward, causing you to cry out and grab his shoulders. "...'I'm gonna fuck you until you cum all over my cock.'" 

"Oh, but hearing that out of your mouth is so fucking sexy, Army." You whispered, digging your fingernails into his shoulders as you raised your hips to meet his.

"Oh, you like hearing me say dirty words?" His hand went to your hip, pulling you closer as he buried his face in your neck and picked up his speed. 

"Love hearing...hnn, the all-American pretty boy spewing filth. God, Steve... you... hnn, fuck." You closed your eyes as stars started exploding in your vision every time his cockhead hit your cervix. "Steve, God, Steve." You chanted repeatedly, moaning louder with every passing moment.

"You're gonna wake everyone." Steve warned.

"Don't care. It's just-" You cried out again as he brought his hand down to rub his thumb across your clit. "Fuck!"

"Y/n, I'm not lasting much longer so you better cum soon or I'm gonna feel like a failure." His thumb started fast circles around your bundle of nerves. 

"Oh, put it all on me, huh?" You breathed out, letting your eyes catch his. "Don't worry, Steve. No failure here. I'm so close. God, so fucking close."

"Me, too. Fuck, y/n. Cum for me." He groaned out. 

The orgasm that crashed over you took your breath away, your muscles clenching around him in a fluttering motion that sent him into his own. "Oh, fuck, Steve." You panted out. He pressed his lips to yours and pulled out, both of you moaning as he did. He carefully pulled the condom off and flung it at his trashcan. It hit the wall and slid to the ground, making you chuckle. "I'm not cleaning that."

"I'll get it." He said, lying down next to you and pulling you into his arms. "Tomorrow." 

You cuddled into his chest and sighed happily. "This was amazing, Steve."

"I'm glad you liked it as much as I did." He said, smiling down at you. "You know, I... I'm glad Wade brought you back."

You smiled up at him. "Yeah. Yeah, me too, actually. As mad as I was yesterday-"

"I didn't help the situation much." He responded.

"But you did make it up to me, just like you promised." You said, pulling yourself closer to him as he pulled his thin cotton blanket up around the two of you.

"This wasn't enough to make it up to you, but I'm going to keep working on it." 

"Yeah?"

"For the rest of my life, sweetheart."

"Well, let's talk about the rest of our lives tomorrow."

"You're that exhausted, huh?" He chuckled.

"I slept in a wooden rocking chair and then I got fucked to pieces. I'm allowed to be exhausted, Army." You snapped back. He chuckled, his whole chest shaking against your head. "You might be able to run on no sleep, but not me."

"Good night, y/n." He whispered, kissing the top of your head.

"Good night, Steve."


End file.
